[ihartnat]

⁺˳‧₊˚.* ⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ welcome to my blog ⁺˳‧₊˚.* ⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹

୨ৎ about me! — my name is margaux / she/her / med student / twenty / leo / i only write natasha romanoff & wanda maximoff stories!

୨ৎ warnings! — i write angst, fluff but mostly smut 18+ , DO NOT INITIATE if ur a minor or men.

stories:

are you ashamed? — 18+

[wandaparadise]

The Roommate — Natalia Romanov

Summary: The truth will always find a way out. Sometimes you come clean, some others someone forces it out. And learning about all the sides of Natasha Romanoff, sounds beautifully terrifying. In a life that you didn’t have a say… would you stay or would you go?

Pairing: g!p! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

Warnings(+18): toxic! parents, possessive sex, marking kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, D/s dynamics, daddy kink, breathing play (choking), degradation kink, praise kink, implied eating disorders, mommy kink officially unlocked, hurt/comfort, fluff, power imbalance, power play, masturbation, voyeurism, cum eating, handjob, dirty talk, mentions of past BlackHill, edging

you don’t have permission to translate/repost my work anywhere. Please be respectful. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated. MDNI — Regina.

A/N: Hello cuties! I know I took my sweet time with this one, didn’t I? I have a lot to say but I really don’t want to spoil hehe. Anyway, enjoy ♡ tell me what you think ♡

The Roommate series playlist

CHAPTER MOOD: Only you by Little Mix

Series masterlist || Main Masterlist

Being officially in a relationship was something new to Natasha. But being in a relationship with you was probably the wildest thing that could had ever happened to her.

For starters, you both skipped so many steps by living together.

Natasha couldn’t remember the last time she actively slept in her own bed. She would say she forgot how her room looked even, if it wasn’t for the fact that she only went in there for clothes. And sometimes just to take a nap while you were out — the redhead always found her way back to your bed either way because your sheets smell so good and it was easier to sleep somewhere she felt safe.

She wasn’t complaining, but some days she stared at the ceiling waiting for you at night and wondered if this was normal or if you were just doing it for her sake, afraid of hurting her feelings by kicking her out of your room.

Because it wasn’t only sleeping in there.

Slowly, Natasha started leaving things around your room without actively noticing it. A pair of clean boxers, hair ties, one or two hoodies that she knew you liked, a new pair of boots you bought her and her cologne sitting alone on the other side of your vanity desk as if that was her side.

Everything was perfectly set around, though.

The redhead wasn’t a mess. She always cleaned after herself, she always picked her clothes from the floor, but she was never one to notice the small things. Who cared if her toothbrush was placed in the wrong spot? You did.

So slowly and silently, Natasha was trained into perfection because she cared more about your wellbeing than fighting about everything she managed to place wrong. She whined about it, but she learned nevertheless.

You hated when her hair ties had hairs? Natasha spent more time cleaning them and placed them where you told her she could.

You color coded your clothes and arranged them by day and level of usage? Natasha sat one evening in your closet and learned the pattern and logic behind your obsession so her hoodies were placed correctly and she also followed the same pattern in her closet to match with you.

Her cologne mirrored the way your perfumes were ordered. Her toothbrush had an specific place, her underwear was perfectly folded and her boots now had a small space in your closet that she always kept clean because now she cleaned her boots after every usage — you hated when they were dirty.

The redhead knew how specific you were with almost everything in your life. And before dating, Natasha tried her best but didn’t put that much effort because it was casual and you never said anything. You still didn’t say much about it, but she also learned to read your body language and she wanted to be perfect for you.

You would point something out, not scolding but also not so casual as you thought and Natasha would panic thinking you were about to break up with her. So she made mental-notes to never do it again.

And you noticed, of course you did. Because just like Natasha learned to read your body language better than anyone, you learned to read hers.

You caught her more than once fixing the coffee table before you arrived home; you saw her the way she took extra time cutting your food; how she always replaced your body wash before it ran out because she was the reason it was running short or the way she learned how to do your bed.

And your heart fluttered at the small gestures; the redhead always got rewarded with sweet kisses and some times with a well deserved blowjob.

But it also worried you.

There was a thin line between trying to impress and losing yourself to your partner. And you didn’t want another you, you had more than enough with yourself. Natasha balanced you out, she represented the freedom you only felt when dancing and you were afraid that she would lose herself in you trying not to lose you.

After all, it really was her first relationship.

It wasn’t like you were the master in that field — you had your fair share of partners, five to be exact. But just as much as Natasha wanted to take care of you, you wanted to take care of her.

However, for someone that was so structured in her daily life, it was getting hard to bend your rules for her. She would do something accidentally and you had to take a few minutes to remind yourself that the world wasn’t ending for a mistake. Natasha was human and she wasn’t you, she was allowed to make mistakes.

You were trying for her. Really trying.

The honeymoon phase inside the apartment was something more domestic, more caring, silent and sweet. Because everything else you already were doing before officially dating like watching movies together, sleeping together or having sex as if you were planning on repopulate the universe.

It was safe and warm. It was so new that at times it felt a little weird and that’s how you ended up fighting — afraid of losing the magic between you as if that was what really tied you to each other.

But it always ended the same way. You and Natasha naked in between your sheets and wrapped in each other’s arms because maybe you skipped steps but that was your rightful place now.

Outside the apartment, though, Natasha had it a little harder than you did. But it was basically her karma. At least, friend wise.

Clint gave Natasha one week to enjoy her love bubble. Just one because that’s how long she gave him when he started dating Laura. But when the week ended, he brought hell with him and mocked Natasha at the slight demonstration of affection or submission.

The redhead remembered that one time Clint was pacing nervously, trying to buy as many sweets he could because Laura was having her period and an awful week. And Natasha laughed, she mocked him just to gain a glare from him and said very proudly and very loud:

‘That’s simp behaviour, dude. Imagine being so whipped by a woman that you are about to freak out. I would never, single life is the best!’

Was it really a surprise when Clint repeated almost word by word to her when she was the one freaking out because you were stressed out since finals were approaching and it was that time of the month?

Probably the favourite part for Clint and the most amusing one was watching Natasha turn down those girls that despite what people said, still tried their shot. Deep inside, Clit was truly happy for his best friend because she looked happy. That never stopped him from mocking her.

‘Won’t you hit that? I thought you liked the attention, Tash. What? Are you chained now or did you just lose your magic?’

The redhead always glared at him or started a physical fight if you were around because Natasha was working so hard to show you she was trustworthy and her best friend wasn’t helping.

She always failed to realised how amused you were, though.

How could you be mad if the same woman that used to fuck anything that moved and flirted like it was a sport, now walked you to every class, carried your backpack and looked annoyed at the minimal interaction with others that weren’t you?

Girls flirted and Natasha would immediately introduce you with an emphasis on the word girlfriend. And she always looked very proud of herself as if you were her greatest achievement.

But Natasha could handle the mockery, the flirting, everything she had to endure because you were there with her and that was all that mattered.

What she couldn’t handle — and probably would never do — was people around you that weren’t the Maximoff twins or her friends.

Natasha said she wasn’t jealous and you always looked at her with amusement because she was very jealous, possessive and territorial.

However, she trusted you because she was once someone you turned down without a blink. She had witnessed the way you always kindly declined or how aggressive you could get if people didn’t take the hint.

The redhead felt pride in knowing she was the only one that could have you.

That didn’t stop her from growling when someone talked to you because it wasn’t you the problem, it was her own insecurities telling her that maybe one day you would wake up and realise you made a mistake. That maybe she wasn’t enough because you were more than enough for her and what if she wasn’t up to your standards?

So when you noticed she was caught up in her own mind, you would always spend more time sitting on her lap, holding her hand, kissing her and caressing her cheeks until she came back to you.

‘Hey, look at me. I’m still yours. I’m not going anywhere’

Those days you would be the one to lead her to bed and let her do whatever she wanted, whatever she needed to remind herself you were hers. Some times she fucked you until you were a moaning and drooling mess, some others she was gentle and sweet or let you take the lead but it always ended with you between her arms as you whispered how lucky you were for having her.

Probably the hardest part of all of that was understanding where it all came from. Natasha used to walk around with all the confidence in the world, she still did but when it came to you, it was like being disarmed and you weren’t so sure why.

You were her strength but also her weakness. And you didn’t know what to do or say to help her understand that she was more than enough for you. That you started falling in love with her before knowing her sweet side. That every part of her, the ones you already knew and the ones that slowly came out to play, you liked it as much.

But you were also new to dating someone like Natasha.

You were new to someone caring so much that they felt like you were easy to lose. Someone so sweet that woke you up for your morning runs, listened to you rant about group projects and learned every lyric of your favourite songs to sing with you.

Natasha didn’t judge, didn’t pressure you to be someone you weren’t, didn’t ask more than you could give. She adapted to you and made you feel special every time.

Naturally, you feared you were the one that wasn’t up to her standards.

What could you give someone that seemed to have everything in life?

Gifts felt shallow. Yet, every little thing that reminded you of her, you bought and she always smiled softly as if she couldn’t buy twenty of it herself.

Natasha got showered in new things for her bike, like that little top case so she could keep her things when she decided to ride around the city to think. In your car, you started carrying her favourite chocolates in the glove box because you noticed she ate them when she was anxious. You bought her clothes and boots that fitted her style and she always said:

‘Princess, you love seeing me in more formal clothes. Why do you keep feeding my obsession with sweatpants? And don’t act like you won’t steal that hoodie’

And you always reminded her that it wasn’t about you, it was about her. You drooled over her no matter what she wore and you showed her as much.

You weren’t a touchy person. Yet, you let Natasha be glued to you because she liked it. You shared with her your space, your things, your bed because she wanted it and you liked having her around and happy.

You watched horror movies despite hating them but Natasha loved them, so you sucked it up. You let her set a profile in your gaming consoles and sat next to her in silence as she played. You even tried to learn so you could play together and ended up so frustrated that Natasha kissed it better. Your car also had her profile set up, her leather jacket was always on the backseat and you made a conjoined playlist for the morning rides.

Despite everything, you felt like you weren’t doing enough. Not when she gave you everything before you even thought about it and you were just there feeling you gave her so little.

For once in your life, control wasn’t in your hands and not in the way you liked.

You felt helpless, so little that you were getting desperate because you also thought you were a very private person and Natasha proved you wrong.

You realised that you knew so little about her life before college, before you, before everything. You knew what she liked, how she sounded when she cum inside of you, the way she smiled and how goofy she could be if she wanted.

You knew her but not really.

There was a side of her very locked and that was her family. You noticed as much when you suggested inviting Yelena over and she tensed up. You didn’t pressure but you were aware that if for some reason someone mentioned family, Natasha’s eyes would cloud with worry and pulled you closer.

She was scared and you didn’t know why or how to ask. Because she was patient with and you owed her as much, but you wanted to understand.

Still, you both navigated your new relationship together. Because your dynamic didn’t change, it only evolved.

You kept fighting as foreplay. You kept teasing each other. You were sweet and loving. You desired the other as if you had never been touched in your life and you needed it.

You were madly in love.

(—)

Finals week arrived and with it, the mark of your first month as an official couple.

You were already stressed out with exams and studying. It was double the work since it always paired with your dancing career. But for once, you were looking forward for summer time.

You didn’t add summer dancing classes in hopes to spend it with Natasha. However, you didn’t know how to tell her that since it felt like assuming something because you didn’t know what she did for the summer.

It was Wednesday when it happened. Sadly, it happened because you were more than mad. You were about to kill someone.

Natasha, Clint and Laura were already sitting at your usual table. Iced coffee replacing your usual tea because you had been studying like a machine, salad already cut the way you liked it and your perfect girlfriend made the space for your textbooks so you could multitask.

Clint saw you first, storming through the garden with the twins following you in silence. Face red, phone on your ear and a deadly stare that meant you were about to commit a murder.

“It was nice knowing you, Romanoff” he teased and before Natasha could ask, your voice reached her ears.

“No, Alexander. I’m sick of this, sick of you and your mother thinking dad is a fucking wallet” you snarled and Natasha flinched as you dropped your backpack next to her and only stopped to peck her cheek “Do not play that card on me. I was planning on going and I had to learn…”

You walked away and Natasha swore she had never heard you so angry. Not even with her, and she knew what buttons to press to piss you off.

Wanda and Pietro sat, greeting everyone and smiling softly. The redhead looked at the brunette, but she was focused on you as you kept lecturing your little brother over the phone.

Then, Natasha looked at her twin and Pietro was shifting nervously because he knew that if you were calling Alec by his full name, you were extremely mad and he could potentially be your victim if he didn’t behave.

“Wanda” Natasha said softly and the brunette finally looked at her, as if she had forgotten where she was “What happened?”

Your best friend bit her lip nervously. She didn’t want to be the one to break the news to Natasha even if that could save the whole group.

When it came to your mother and Alexander as a team, you went feral. You saw red because one thing was handling your mother alone, but when Alec stupidly sided with her since he was mommy’s good boy, you always lost it.

You adored your brother — he was your partner in crime and one of your best friends. You knew he loved you as much too and that when he did things that involved your mother, he lost common sense.

Your mother was a narcissistic and manipulative bitch when she wanted and sadly, Alec was the weak one when it came to that. And despite knowing it wasn’t fully his fault, that he was trying to be a good son, you always drew the line when your father was involved.

Your mother could always came after you. But you always stood up for the man that did nothing but love and care for you.

“Maybe you should let her tell you” Wanda finally offered and gave her an apologetic smile “But don’t worry, it’s not about you. She won’t get mad at you”

Pietro snorted and Wanda glared at him.

Out of the two, Pietro always managed to piss you off at the worst moments. Wanda always gave you space to cool down and she was always the first one you went to.

“Just try not to say something stupid” Pietro added and Wanda rolled her eyes, annoyed “I would know”

Natasha hummed.

Sometimes, being around the twins was like a silent competition. Well, Natasha felt that way because they knew you so well, better than her, and sometimes her efforts seemed weak next to theirs. But she always remembered that they were with you longer than she was and she was still learning.

“Well, I guess we all should behave now. She’s coming” Clint added, slightly amused as Laura smacked his arm and forced him to keep studying.

Pietro ducked his head and focused on his fries as he pretended to read. Wanda cleared her throat and looked at her notes but left a small space beside her as she waited for your next move. Clint and Laura were in their bubble.

And Natasha was left alone and panicking because she didn’t know what to expect based on the tension in the twins’ bodies.

It was like they were preparing for a tornado, ready for whatever you were about to bring to the table. Literally.

But both gasped when instead of glaring and flaring your nostrils, the first thing you did was slide over Natasha’s lap and hugged her.

Even Clint and Laura seemed impressed. Maybe they didn’t know you as well as the twins but they had seen you mad more times than Natasha had and you were never like that.

There wasn’t a single human being able to calm you down when your emotions were that intense. Well, apparently there was one and it was the most annoying one in that table.

Your girlfriend.

“Well, that’s a new one” Pietro mumbled and Wanda smacked the back of his head.

However, she smiled. Wanda wouldn’t lie, she was a little jealous that her status as your number one was gone. But she wasn’t mad, she was happy because maybe you hadn’t noticed but Natasha was tearing your walls apart.

Instead of retrieving, now you seek comfort. You were truly happy and you were safe. And if anyone doubted that for a second, you being wrapped around Natasha’s body was the ultimate proof.

The redhead hugged you tightly as you nuzzled her neck, patiently waiting for your body to relax so she could ask. Her scent soothing your stressed out state and her hands rubbing circles on your back to keep you safe.

After a few minutes, you pulled back and before Natasha could ask, you kissed her.

Around your friends you tried to keep the make out sessions to the bare minimum, sometimes it was hard but it was for their sakes. But right then and there, you really couldn’t care less about them when only the redhead could bring you comfort.

As your lips moved desperately over hers, trying to ground yourself, your mind started to get quieter. Lately, Natasha was the only one that could do that. And she let you set the rhythm, she always did when you were frustrated and clearly you needed it.

She was yours to toy with if that’s what you wanted.

Breaking the kiss was almost painful. But you did it and pressed your forehead against hers as you breathe unevenly. Your heart still hammering against your ribcage and your ears ringing but the line was now blurred.

It could’ve been your anger or the kiss. Who knows.

“What happened, princess?” Natasha whispered, pulling back and caressing your cheek as your eyes filled with tears. She furrowed her brows “Hey, it’s okay. You are here now. You are safe”

It was like no one else was around you; Natasha always muffled the noise around and in your head and maybe that’s why you started sobbing.

Pietro’s instinct made him jump to run next to you and Wanda made him sit back in place because whatever that was happening, you needed it.

You were always so composed that only the twins had seen you cry and it took them a year for it to happen. That’s why Pietro was overly-protective of you, because you hated crying in front of people and think they saw you weak.

Not Natasha, though.

She had seen you cry when you were in your period over the most silly thing or when you were watching a movie and curled next to her. And she never mocked you, she never pushed, she simply hugged you and called you beautiful.

“Alexander is an idiot. We hate him now” you pouted as if you were a child throwing a tantrum and Natasha hummed, nodding in agreement.

“I will block his number if that’s what you want, princess” she offered seriously but smiled when you giggled softly, wiping your tears “Why do we hate him, though?”

You sighed, sniffling as Wanda gave you a tissue and you smiled at her softly.

For a moment, you only focused on your exchange with Natasha. You said we, as if now you both had to feel the same towards the same person. We as in a team. And Natasha followed you. She agreed. And your heart fluttered.

You were no longer alone.

You climbed down her lap and took a second to greet Clint and Laura that were trying so hard to give you space and pretend they didn’t watch the exchange. Not even Clint dared to tease Natasha about it, he wouldn’t do it. At least, not yet nor in front of you.

Wanda gave you a gentle squeeze and Pietro still was waiting for you to lash out but smiled softly when you smiled at him. And Natasha waited patiently; you would tell her if you wanted her to know.

“Remember that I told you about the trip to Italy for my brother’s birthday?” you started and Natasha hummed. She remembered very clearly because she pouted at the thought of not having you around for a week and then you let her fuck you dumb so she gave in “Well, I’m not going”

Natasha frowned. You had been a little excited and dragged her around shopping for the trip, as if you didn’t have enough clothes. And you spent a weekend planning the trip since — and she quotes — ‘The men in your family were nothing but a mess and you wouldn’t leave the hotel if you didn’t do everything yourself’.

And now you were dropping everything after that one call.

“What? Why?” she asked carefully, trying to hide her excitement because you missing the trip meant you would be around. Or at least, she hoped.

“Alexander is the biggest asshole I know and I know a bunch” you grunted and Natasha raised a brow. You were calling Alec by his name and worse, you called him an asshole. You sighed again “Mother told him she have never been to Italy but hoped we had fun. And my stupid brother, as always, fell for it”

“Your mother is going?” Natasha tilted her head slightly and you growled.

“Not only that. Alexander had the fucking audacity to ask dad not to go because dear mother wouldn’t be comfortable” you huffed and the redhead glanced at Wanda for a second, watching her tense up a little as if you could snap again “And it doesn’t stop there. Of course he also made dad pay for the trip, as if my mother couldn’t pay for her own expenses. And dad agreed, he fucking agreed. I don’t know who I want to kill first” you growled again.

It was maddening the way your mother kept getting away with anything she wanted. Even more so, when she used your brother to manipulate your father.

The relationship between Alec and your dad was as hellish as yours with your mother. Maybe they didn’t fight like you did with her, but they might as well do.

The absence of your father was hard on both of you. And he threw money to compensate for it. But the difference between you and Alexander was that your mother was in his ear.

She implanted the idea that your father cared more about you. You got the car, the apartment, the expensive clothes and your private schools. Alexander did too but he never saw it.

Because you and your father were close, you fixed your issues and worked through it.

Your brother now believed your dad loved you more, no matter what the poor man did it would never be enough. If you got a gift, Alec got the equivalent so your father didn’t feel bad. If Alec wanted something, he always got it.

Your brother could be as manipulative as your mother if he wanted to. Specially, if your mother wanted him to and in this case she did.

“You could go to Italy separately, princess” Natasha tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you huffed “Or not? What do you want to do?”

“Go to my mother’s house and commit arson” you said with a dangerous glint in your eyes as if you were imagining it. You blinked and smiled “At least, I’ll be around just in case… well, you know…” you squirmed nervously and your cheeks blushed.

“In case what? You want to know if I will be around? Because I can leave if that’s what you want” the redhead asked nervously and Clint smacked the back of her head “Barton!” she glared at him and he shook his head.

“Dude, are you stupid?” Clint mocked and you giggled, throwing him a grateful smile and he winked at you. Natasha frowned “I swear to god, Romanoff-“

“She’s asking you if you want to spend the summer together, Nat” Laura rushed to say before she jumped and started fighting with Clint, again.

Your girlfriend turned to look at you, her cheeks as blushed as yours as if you both were new to each other. As if you didn’t live together already and were too afraid to push for more.

“I- well- I just-“ Natasha stuttered and scratched the back of her neck.

The redhead hated summer.

Her worst childhood memories were forged during that time. And she was planning to be around as much as she could, but there was also something she had been ignoring and it was the fact that her parents lived now in the city.

When they were in California, Natasha pretended to be busy with extracurricular classes so she didn’t have to go home. And she spent her summers at The Hamptons throwing parties and fucking as much as she could to keep her mind away from memories.

But now you were there and so were her parents. And honestly, she had been very lucky that her mother hadn’t summoned her again to know if you two were dating.

Natasha didn’t know what to expect. Or what to do.

“It’s okay if you have plans” you said softly, pushing down the sadness that crept into your heart “I understand”

Without noticing, you moved away from Natasha as if that could shield you from the disappointment. You didn’t mean to, but there were things hard to unlearn.

Your hand instinctively reached for Wanda’s and Natasha’s heart dropped because lately she was your safe place, not your best friend.

The brunette held your hand but said nothing.

Usually, she would be the one to tell you to listen, to not get ahead of yourself. But it wasn’t her place anymore, Natasha had to be the one to reach out for you because she was the only one you would listen to.

The redhead moved closer. She could’ve pulled you back, she could’ve made drama about it and yet, she decided it was better to go to you.

“I don’t have plans, yet” Natasha said softly and you looked at her “Unless you have something in mind?” she leaned closer and brushed her nose against yours “We could go and crash your brother’s birthday. We could do anything you want” you bit your lip and she cradled your face “I’ll go wherever you go. If you will have me”

You let go of Wanda’s hand and caressed Natasha’s cheek, smiling softly as your eyes twinkling with devotion.

“I don’t know if I will want to leave the bed if you are around” you teased and the group groaned, making you giggle “We will see”

“Hm, that sounds like a plan to me” Natasha murmured as you brushed your lips together and you kissed her again.

This time it was steamy and hot, and the only ones complaining about it were Pietro and Clint.

“We are literally right here” Clint huffed and Natasha flipped him off without breaking the kiss.

Maybe summer wouldn’t be bad with you by her side.

(—)

The bed creaked as your moans filled the studio.

Natasha had one hand wrapped around your throat and the other one was on your hip as sweat rolled down your bodies. She looked down, watching the way her cock disappeared inside of you and the way your ass was reddened after she spanked you for getting your coffee cup with a number on it.

The first two weeks of the summer and just like predicted, you spent them fucking even more than you already did. And only for the sake of Amelia, you went to the studio so she didn’t run into you getting fucked.

It happened when Natasha decided that the laundry room was the perfect place to eat you out and the poor woman blushed so hard that it took her two days to look at you in the eyes again.

“Did you like her? Did you ask for her number?” Natasha growled and her hand squeezed a little more your throat “I was right there and you didn’t stop her from flirting with you”

You whimpered as she slapped your ass again, your head was hazy and your face turning red as Natasha’s grip kept tightening around your throat.

She pulled you up, your back meeting her chest as you rolled your hips desperately because she had been edging you way too long and you needed to cum.

“You are mine. We will go back and you will tell her that” she grunted in your ear and your hands landed on the one she had around your throat “You think you deserve to breathe, slut?” your moan got stuck in your throat as your vision blurred and your eyes rolled back. Natasha finally let go and you gasped as her movements turned rougher “Say it. Say you are mine”

“Daddy, please” you whined, her free hand rubbing circles and your slick dripping down “I need to cum, please”

Natasha growled impatiently, grabbing your chin and making you look at her. Green eyes darkened with possessiveness and lust.

“That’s not what I told you to say. Do you want me to start again?” the redhead husked and you shook your head “Then, say it and maybe I’ll let you cum”

“I’m yours, daddy. Only yours” you moaned and Natasha tossed you onto the bed, making you whine when she pulled out as she flipped you over the bed. She pushed herself again, grabbing your legs up and keeping them together “Oh, fuck”

“You are so tight, how is that possible? I fuck you daily” she grunted, feeling the way your walls clenched around her and the position was too damn hot “This pretty pussy is mine, only mine”

“Yes, yes” you arched your back, feeling the way your abdomen tightened “Please, I’m so close”

“I’m too, princess” Natasha whimpered and your moans turned louder “Where do you want my cum?”

“Inside, daddy. Fill me up, please” you begged and you came the second Natasha unloaded inside of you with slow but deep movements “Oh god” you moaned, your face buried in your pillow as your orgasm crashed down and your skin tingled.

The redhead let go of your legs, that were too weak to even make an effort to move. She stayed inside of you and leaned to kiss you tenderly, still feeling the way your body shuddered underneath hers. And even if she wanted to pull out, you wouldn’t let her.

Your fingers tangled with her hair and she nibbled your lip. Natasha gave you small pecks before moving down to your neck, going back to her sweet self as you wrapped your arms around her.

She marked you so badly you would have to cover some bruises up before anyone thought she was beating you up. But you loved when she snapped like that, she always did and it wasn’t like you did it on purpose but when it happened you thanked the skies because it meant you were about to get the best sex of your life.

Even better, the best aftercare.

You remembered the way you used to run away from aftercare. It kept things impersonal, none of you would get attached to each other. But now you couldn’t imagine kicking Natasha out of your bed after she fucked you.

Finally, Natasha pulled out and collapsed next to you. Hands already reaching out for you and pulling you closer to her as you nuzzled her chest. Your fingers caressing her abdomen as silence stretched.

The bed was soaked and you now were contemplating the idea of buying a washing machine for the studio because you kept bringing them to the apartment just to ruin them again the next day.

You looked up. Your girlfriend looked so beautiful with her cheeks flushed, eyes closed as she tried to even her breath and her hands kept you in place.

You pecked her chin and she smiled, her grip tightening around your.

“Are you feeling better?” you teased and she chuckled, your finger tracing down her chest and back to her abdomen “You know I wasn’t flirting, right?”

“I know” she said softly and looked at you “Doesn’t mean I won’t find that girl and kill her”

You hummed “No need, my love. Conjugal visits don’t sound so appealing to me”

Natasha looked at you with amusement.

Sometimes and without you noticing, you talked about you two as a married couple. As if Natasha was there to stay forever. The future could be uncertain but you were planning on keeping her around. And that made her heart flutter.

“Bold of you to assume you would be the one I fuck in there” she teased and you smacked her abdomen, breaking the embrace and turning your back on her “Come on, it was a joke. Get back here”

“No, tell your jail girlfriend” the redhead laughed and you whimpered “Fuck you, Romanoff”

“I just did, princess” she wrapped her arms around you and kissed your shoulder “I don’t have a jail girlfriend”

“Well, duh. You are not in jail” you grunted and Natasha giggled “But apparently you already decided you would have one”

“First, you have better chances of ending up in jail than me” she teased and you smacked her thigh “Tell me I’m wrong”

“No, you are right” you looked over your shoulder and she smirked “Yes, your honour. I killed my own girlfriend with my bare hands. Why I did it? Easy, she was an idiot” you grunted and Natasha laughed.

“See? My murder will get you imprisoned” you rolled your eyes and huffed again, she nuzzled your shoulder and kissed it again “Besides, I love murdery you”

The words left her lips before she even realised it. You turned around in awe and her cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.

“Did you just-“

But her phone cut you off and Natasha almost thanked the skies for the save. It wasn’t like she didn’t mean it, she just wasn’t sure if you were ready.

However, she groaned when she saw the name on her screen.

“Lena, this is really not a good…” Natasha started as soon as she answered, but all color left her body and she looked at you.

“So your phone does work, Natalia” Melina’s voice reached her ears and Natasha jumped out of bed, making you frown as she started looking for her underwear “You have been ignoring my calls”

“I’ve been busy” she mumbled, putting on her boxers and then her bra. She walked to the kitchenette and opened the fridge, trying to ignore your eyes that followed her around “My apologies, mom. It won’t happen again”

At that, you sat on the bed. Natasha tensed up, walking up to you and offering you a bottle of water and walking back to the kitchenette.

Melina hummed “I received a very interesting call from Harvard” that was a lie, Natasha knew it. Her mother called herself “You haven’t even try to apply, Natalia. You graduate next year”

Natasha held back a groan but she rolled her eyes. Of course the call wasn’t to see if she was okay or safe. It was to keep her in check.

“I still have a year, mom” she said softly and decided to plop over one of the puffs. You started dressing yourself since officially, the mood was killed and honestly, you were curious “I will start the process by the end of the summer, how does that sound?”

“Alright. Just because you did what I asked you to” in that moment you appeared before Natasha and she tensed even more as you sat on her lap, still seeking her comfort “I won’t lie, I’m a little hurt I had to find out you are dating (Y/N) through Patrick”

At that, Natasha growled under her breath. It wasn’t that she care if her mother knew, it was that even then she couldn’t have privacy or the right to come clean herself. Melina always had to be in control. And this time it wasn’t even about only Natasha but about you.

Her hands tightened around your body and she pulled you closer as if her mother was one step closer from taking you away. She probably was because Melina didn’t mention things just because.

“You had me followed?” Natasha was losing patience and you tried to caress her arm and make things better. But nothing could as long as Melina was on the other side of the line.

“Well, Natalia, what did you want me to do? You weren’t answering your phone” Melina feigned concern and Natasha started breathing erratically. Her heart was pounding so loud that you started getting worried “I had to check on you. What have you two been doing so much in Brooklyn, hm?”

“You could’ve just waited for me to answer” the redhead said coldly, trying so hard not to snap at her mother “And I’m afraid, that’s none of your business”

The words rolled down her tongue before she could try and stop them. You looked at her in awe at her tone dripping venom and despise, green eyes clouded with wrath but your girlfriend wasn’t even looking at you. She was too focused on her mother inhaling so sharply that Natasha knew what was coming.

“Fix the attitude, Natalia” her mother said sternly, a tone so cold that if it wasn’t for your body, Natasha was sure she would be freezing “You don’t want to tell me? Perfect. I’ll find from the source herself”

“What do you mean?” the redhead asked, despite already knowing what her mother meant and regretting the second she opened her mouth.

Melina chuckled sweetly, almost motherly and if Natasha didn’t know any better, she would believe her mother actually cared.

“You know what I mean, Natalia. I expect you both for dinner tonight” Natasha started to protest and Melina tutted “It’s time for her to meet the family, my love. Besides, we have to discuss something”

“Mom, tonight it’s not…”

“Do I have to repeat myself, my dear?” her mother cut her off and Natasha breathed out “I almost believed you forgot how to behave. Dress up nicely, we are going out. I’ll text you the details”

Melina hung up and Natasha’s grip tightened around her phone, as if she was trying to break the phone. Her chest kept going up and down as her blood started to boil and her head started spinning.

If she had kept her mouth shut, would her mother still force her to go?

Not only that. Everything she kept postponing to tell you was about to come out and Natasha just wanted to stay in your little love bubble for a little longer. She needed time and of course her mother only gave her one month and a half to enjoy.

If it was for Melina, you two would be already married because her mother loved rushing things. Specially once she already made up her mind about something.

“Nat…” you said softly and her eyes finally looked at you, clouded with fear and pain.

Would you stay after Natasha told you the whole truth? Or would you hate her for not telling you as soon as she learned it herself?

“We need to talk”

(—)

Natasha dropped those words and instead of talking, she started pacing half naked.

You had been watching her for the last thirty minutes, fully dressed and sitting at the edge of the sofa. She stopped every few steps, looked at you and went back to pacing. And you were starting to feel as anxious as she was.

You kept trying to figure it out yourself.

Clearly, her mother was always the hardest topic and you understood because yours was as bad. But there was something about the way Natasha talked to her, so formal, so robotic and with not a drop of care that was nothing like your girlfriend.

Also, there was this hint of submission that kept fighting against her need to snap. Natasha was mad and even when she told her mother off, she didn’t raise her voice.

“Natasha” you called softly when she stopped, looking at the floor and bit her nails “My love, look at me” you insisted softly and green eyes met yours “Come here”

“You won’t want me near you” Natasha replied with a broken voice.

You stood up and walked up to her, your arms wrapping around her waist and you placed a soft kiss in her neck and then her collarbone all the way to her shoulder.

“You don’t know that” you said softly and you looked up “Try me”

The redhead bit her lip “One for the ride?”

She didn’t wait for your answer, calloused fingers holding your face tenderly as she pressed her lips against yours. She moved her lips slowly, as tender as she could, fearing that the moment she broke the kiss you would vanish.

Natasha brushed her nose against yours and pecked your lips one last time. She guided you to the sofa and sat over one of the puffs.

“You know that won’t be our last kiss, right?” you smiled reassuringly and the redhead sighed “It can’t be that bad. Unless you are cheating on me?”

“I would never dare” Natasha deadpanned and you nodded, letting her know it was okay to keep talking “First things first, mother is expecting us for dinner tonight” she announced carefully and you bit your lip.

“Okay, that isn’t so bad” you said calmly.

Maybe in the ideal world, you would’ve waited until the third month so Natasha didn’t feel so pressured or you, for that mattered. But telling that to your girlfriend that already seemed on edge was definitely a bad idea. And you weren’t exactly a conventional type of relationship, anyway.

“You say that now” the redhead mumbled and you tilted your head slightly to the side “She loves summoning people as if we don’t have our own lives”

“Nat, it’s just one dinner” you said softly and she shook her head.

“It’s not just one dinner. It’s what she wants from that dinner, what she wants for herself” she growled, tone dripping with venom and despise.

“What is it? You can tell me, is she planning on breaking us up?” you asked nervously.

There was always that possibility. At least, your mother would do it. However, you didn’t know if Natasha would put up a fight the way you would for her.

“No” the redhead leaned and sighed “In fact, this is what she wanted”

“This as in…”

“As in us” Natasha finally said, her chest heavy and her ears ringing. You furrowed your brows and your girlfriend was trying to find the right words “Remember the night I told you she ran a background on you?” you hummed and Natasha started playing with her fingers “She implied that you weren’t a coincidence. You didn’t fall into her lap as my saviour after they…” she inhaled sharply, trying to keep her anger down “after they took my penthouse for themselves. Now that I think about it, she probably did that for this too”

“My love, I know you say I’m smart and all but I’m afraid I’m not following” you chuckled nervously.

You started scratching your arm as you always did when your thoughts started getting louder. Natasha jumped out of the puff and sat next to you.

“She sent me your way in hopes you would fall in love with me, princess” Natasha said softly and your lips parted “Mother wants you, wants us. Apparently, you are the perfect woman to be the mother of her grandchildren”

You chuckled “That can’t be…” Natasha looked at you seriously and your smile faded away “Why would she think that? No, we just-“ you jumped out of the sofa and Natasha exhaled “Did you go after me for this? Is that why you approached me after that Spanish class?” your girlfriend went after you and you pointed at her “Give me a minute” you gritted your teeth as your ears started ringing and your head started spinning “Am I just the incubator for your babies? We’ve been having unprotected sex for the last…”

“I know, okay? I know” Natasha cut you off because between your mind spiralling and hers too, you would end up fighting badly “No, I don’t see you as that. I didn’t even know about it until I was already falling in love with you”

“You don’t know that” you grunted and tears filled your eyes.

You walked to the bed and sat there with your legs pressed to your chest. Even your mother didn’t sound as bad as Natasha’s mom now that you thought about it.

You felt manipulated, as if someone else was pulling the strings and you were upset about it. Because your relationship was supposed to be real and you needed to believe no one had that much power.

But it was rubbing wrong on you.

When Natasha told you her mother ran a background on you, you thought that maybe it was to know her daughter wasn’t living with a psycho. Maybe she was only looking after Natasha despite the unconventional ways.

And now you weren’t so sure anymore.

Natasha walked up to you after a few minutes, kneeling in front of you with teary eyes that mirrored yours.

“I do know” she said firmly, despite her heart pounding and her hands trembling “The only thing she did was sending me your way. But we already knew each other and I promise you that wasn’t my mother’s doing” you closed your eyes as tears rolled down your cheeks “We are real. What I feel is real, my mother won’t take that away from us”

“But why me? What does your mother want from me?” your voice faltered and Natasha got closer.

“You are beautiful and smart, princess. You are perfect and my mother loves perfection” the redhead wiped your tears away and caressed your cheek, you leaned into her touch and climbed her lap “I swear to you, to us, I didn’t ask you out because she wanted to. And as much as I would’ve loved to not give her what she wanted, I cannot stay away from you”

“This is messed up, Nat” you whispered and Natasha kissed your forehead “I- I can’t marry you right now. We are studying and my career, your career…”

“Right now?” Natasha asked and your cheeks blushed as you bit your lip “You would marry me even after this?”

“I- we- Yes. Fuck our mothers, honestly” the redhead kissed your hand softly “We haven’t even said I love you, we just started dating!”

“Princess, I know. Well, I did say it” she shrugged and you smacked her arm.

“That doesn’t count, Romanoff. We were discussing a murder. Your murder” you grunted and she nuzzled your neck “Why was your mother playing suitors for you?”

“She probably found out I was fucking around” Natasha admitted and you glared at her “To be fair, I ran away from California and forgot her power had no limit”

“And what? I was one of the many choices you had?”

Natasha chuckled and you smacked her arm again. You were just crying and now you were acting jealous, as if it pained you thinking that Natasha had other choices. As if she wouldn’t have picked you if her mother didn’t choose for her.

“I don’t know. I don’t care” she pecked your chin and then your neck “I only want you, anyway”

“You better, my love. Because if you want me to carry your babies, you will have to want me for a very long time” you huffed and Natasha whimpered “Oh god, don’t tell me you are getting turned on”

“You said babies and I love filling you up” she whispered and licked your neck “Maybe we can try for one right now”

You pushed her off and she chuckled as you glared at her. Natasha sneaked a hand under your skirt and you smacked it away, making her whine.

“No. We are leaving right now. I’m definitely covering your mess and that will take hours” you huffed again and Natasha pouted “If you want to keep having unprotected sex, you will behave right now”

“This is so unfair” she groaned but smiled “Quickie?”

“God, you are impossible”

“Is that a…”

You climbed her lap down and pulled her boxers down. Maybe the word ‘babies’ was also turning you on. But you really didn’t want to think about it in that moment.

Maybe your relationship wasn’t the norm. Maybe you were set up. But you would fight for it because it was yours. And neither your mother nor Natasha’s would win this war. You would be the one to decide what you did from now on.

Natasha moaned when your mouth wrapped around her cock and she tossed her head back. You knew you had to leave, but in that moment you would give yourselves what you needed the most.

Each other.

(—)

Natasha was almost dragging you across the restaurant.

You stumbled and steadied yourself with a waiter that clenched his jaw but said nothing when you gave him an apologetic smile. Your heels screeching against the marble floors as your girlfriend walked with a serious face on.

“Nat, slow down. My heels will break” you squeaked but she wasn’t listening to you, her eyes focused on her number one enemy “Natasha!” you said louder and she finally looked at you.

Green eyes softened at your sight. She followed your gaze, where her hand was wrapped around your small wrist and she loosened her grip but said nothing.

During the last hours and after you got back home, your girlfriend had been on edge.

The redhead paced around your room and then in hers when you went to help her pick her outfit to match yours. And as the dinner got closer, Natasha started tensing up even more.

No matter what you did, what you said or what you wore, nothing was making her stop. It was as if she was another Natasha, one that was trying so hard not to lose her temper and lash out on you.

You tried to ask a little more about her family. Despite hating the idea of her mother apparently choosing you to be part of her family as if you nor Natasha had a choice, they were still her family.

It was a hard path to walk on.

Her mother wanted you as her daughter in law and as comforting as that should be, it wasn’t feeling right. Not when you barely started dating Natasha. Not when you didn’t know exactly what she wanted. And definitely not when you learned about it that same day.

And the redhead said nothing. She barely spoke to you once you got home, she only told you the name of the restaurant and to look as pretty as always because her mother didn’t deserve to be handed weapons to destroy you.

‘Be your perfect self. I will handle the rest’

Her commanding tone usually turned you on. This time, your insides felt like they were about to explode and you were trying to decide if you were upset about it or terrified.

Probably both.

You approached a round table in a corner of the place, close to the floor to ceiling windows that gave you the perfect view of the city from a sixtieth floor.

And you not only saw her, you felt her.

Melina Romanoff was a very beautiful woman. And a very powerful one. You assessed her for a second the moment she stood up.

She looked taller than she was, her poised self imponent and commanding. Melina didn’t look like a costumer, she looked like she owned the fucking place. And when hazel eyes met yours with a glint of amusement and something that resemblance triumph, you felt smaller than you were but mostly you felt like a possession.

In your mind, it didn’t make sense.

You had nothing to offer to the Romanoff family. Not money, not status, not even power that she clearly had herself.

Sadly for you, Natasha’s mother looked unreadable.

Natasha, on the other hand, was trying to keep her composure. Her mind and body were pulling her in every direction, having you so close was supposed to be soothing and instead she was losing her mind because her mother was forcing her to show you a side she didn’t want to.

The one that always submitted for the sake of self-preservation.

Natasha Romanoff had a lot of flaws, she was only human and it was natural to make mistakes. When her mother wasn’t around, the redhead let herself make those mistakes because it felt freeing and rebellious. But when Melina was around, there was no room for it.

What would you think of her the second her mother started pointing out those flaws?

Melina approached you both and smirked with amusement the moment Natasha stepped in front of you to shield you, as if that would stop her from getting to you.

“Natalia, I see you actually know how to dress” she said softly and Natasha clenched her jaw as her mother brushed her shoulder, hazel eyes assessing her from head to toe and then fingers caressed the redhead’s cheek almost lovingly. Almost “And how to do your makeup. You look magnificent”

Natasha hated the moment her heart fluttered at those words. She hated every time her mother feigned love but she hated even more that her heart still yearned for it.

“It’s good to see you too, mom” Natasha said softly, despite the knot in her stomach and her skin burning were her mother’s fingers touched “You look beautiful”

The redhead always fell into her act of loving daughter. Well, it wasn’t an act and maybe that was worse because she wanted it to be. She wanted to be like you and stand up for herself.

Yet, Melina always made her bend.

Her mother leaned closer, kissing the air next to her cheeks and Natasha shivered at the contact of perfectly manicured nails against her neck. Melina’s hot breath hit her ear and the redhead’s shoulders tensed up.

“I hope you behave tonight, Natalia. We don’t want another outburst like earlier, do we?” Melina whispered, condescending tone and Natasha’s jaw tightened even more “After all, we want to keep her in the family”

Melina pulled back and before she could approach you, Natasha held her arm. She glared at her mother, green eyes trying to burn a hole into her mother’s soul. If only she had one.

“For the last time, she’s not a toy” Natasha said softly and leaned closer “Just tell me what you want and I will give it to you. Leave her out of this”

Melina chuckled and cradled her daughter’s face. The redhead’s features hardened as her mother leaned closer, pressing her forehead against Natasha’s so motherly that anyone would buy the act. She was buying the act.

“You haven’t figured it out, hm?” Melina replied with amusement “I want you. You were born to do great things, Natalia” she explained and pulled back “And she will guide you to success. After all, no daughter of mine will marry a cheap whore like those you like” Natasha’s chest felt heavy and her nostrils flared “Sometimes a mother have to meddle in order to bring her daughter into becoming her true self. Not the sad excuse of a woman you still are”

“Why the background then? Why her? It could’ve been anyone” Natasha insisted and Melina smirked.

“Knowledge is power, Natalia. I taught you that since you were a baby” her mother’s smirk only widened “As to why her, I investigated every damn girl in your campus. She is outstanding, my dear. The only girl that is up to your status, your money, your future”

“Then you know she’s not easy to control” Natasha gritted her teeth and Melina chuckled again.

“I’m counting on it. Finally someone that is worth my time” the redhead growled and her mother patted her shoulder “Unlike you and your sister. Hopefully, you will get there”

Melina walked past her daughter to greet you as Natasha’s ears started ringing and the air was knocked out of her lungs. Sometimes her mother could be right down cruel.

Her eyes started burning and her heart dropped. Realisation spread all over her skin, electrifying and taunting, as she turned around to look at you.

Melina wanted Natasha to fall in love so the redhead had a weakness, an angle to control her with. Her mother was about to break her until Natasha snapped or submitted fully. You were chosen because the family would look impecable in the process. Her mother saw you as Natasha’s accessory and also the weapon.

The redhead should’ve read the file because Melina was going after you in order for Natasha to react.

(—)

There was something about the way Melina Romanoff talked that was somehow alluring. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve fallen for the act of the loving mother.

Natasha was watching you and her carefully as you talked, fingers twitching and leg bouncing anxiously as she waited for her mother to drop something but also scared that you would fall for her act.

Her mother smiled at you, welcomed you and even hugged you. She was sweeter with you during the first thirty seconds of knowing you than she was with Natasha her whole life.

“So tell me, darling, what are your plans once you finish your degree?” Melina asked during the main course, hazel eyes focused on you as Natasha tensed next to you “Natalia, stop that leg”

The redhead stopped bouncing her leg and mumbled an apology, cheeks flushed as you looked at her and your hand grabbed hers.

“Well, I always wanted to be a professional dancer” you said softly, fingers intertwining with Natasha’s “But I guess I’ll have to join the finance world as an actuary”

“That’s marvellous! I’m sure Natalia can help you with that” she glanced at her daughter with a smirk “Your grandmother will be the perfect connection. After all” Melina looked back at you “family helps each other”

You choked on your water and Natasha looked at you worried as you coughed and cleaned your mouth. You licked your lips nervously.

“I’m flattered, Mrs Romanoff. But I don’t want you to think I’m with Natasha for her family connections or her money” you replied after a few moments and Melina smiled dangerously “And the word family is a little… soon. I don’t like getting ahead of myself”

Melina hummed and leaned back on her chair. She watched the way her daughter pulled you slightly closer as she whispered something in your ear.

“It’s rude to whisper at the table, Natalia” Melina said sternly and Natasha huffed “Quit the attitude. We have a guest”

“My apologies, mom. Won’t happen again” Natasha forced herself to smile and you tensed next to her. Your girlfriend was far from her usual self “And I would gladly help you out, princess. Grandmother will be thrilled to know I’m officially dating” she pecked your cheek and you smiled.

“She was so sad when your thing with Maria didn’t work out, wasn’t she?” Melina threw and Natasha’s jaw clenched as you looked at her, confused “Oh, don’t worry. My daughter used to have a cheap taste” you looked back at Melina and she smiled at you “You are certainly quite an upgrade, darling. I’m even sorry that my daughter is not up to your level”

Even Yelena looked at her mother as if the whole conversation was unusual and straight up mean. Alexei was the only one that chuckled, as if his wife didn’t just insult his daughter in front of you.

And your blood started boiling because no one could be that mean. Not to Natasha that was more than perfect for you.

“I will have to disagree, Mrs Romanoff” you said venomously sweet and Melina smirked “Your daughter is more than I could’ve asked for. She’s perfect”

“I’m sure she agrees with me. What do you think, Natalia?”

Natasha clenched her jaw and glared at her mother. It was as if she knew all the things that ran through her mind and she hated it. The redhead hated that her mother could read her so well.

“I’m just lucky to have you, princess” Natasha looked at you defeated and you blinked “Almost as if you were chosen for me” she glared at Melina and her mother scoffed.

“We do find love when we least expect it, my dear” Melina said coldly and you looked at her in awe “Natalia mentioned earlier you were in Brooklyn. Is everything alright? Don’t tell me she’s already driving you crazy at your apartment”

Your head felt dizzy. You couldn’t fight Melina because she was Natasha’s mother but at the same time she was coming after her and your heart started aching with need to protect.

“No, she is not. She’s my perfect roommate” you replied softly, still playing with your food after eating half of it and you were forcing yourself to finish “I have my own studio in Brooklyn. Natasha comes with me now that we have some free time”

Natasha sighed; she was almost hoping you didn’t tell her but for that she should’ve disclosed the conversation with her mother and you already had a small panic attack when she told you everything.

The redhead was sure that adding to the list that lately you had been followed wouldn’t help.

“Right. I told you the dancing classes were going to help you one day, Natalia” Melina smiled sweetly, sending a shiver down your spine “Now you can follow your girlfriend’s lead”

“You were right, mom” the redhead mumbled and you squeezed her hand.

Melina kept the conversation going, half complimenting you, half belittling Natasha. Everything you did was better, shinier and promising. Reminding the redhead that in order to keep you, she would have to do as Melina told.

And the worst part was, Natasha was starting to cave in. Because despite her mother wanting to have fully control over her, it made sense.

In Natasha’s mind, you were more than perfect. You were a dream and she already believed nothing she did would be worthy of you. The gifts, the overdoing things, the need to learn and adapt to you now made sense.

Your girlfriend was scared of truly losing you. And her mother was feeding that fear in order to get her back on track. Despite Natasha’s efforts to fight back, she always ended up apologising, mumbling and agreeing.

You also saw it. You were Melina’s weapon against her daughter. She was using you as the perfect example not just to make Natasha bend down but at some point she dragged Yelena too.

And the most infuriating part was that Alexei chuckled and hummed, even if his eyes darkened from time to time, not once did he make her stop.

By dessert, you were already close to snapping at the woman and the only reason you were holding back was because you were in public. You also figured it out as to why she chose a restaurant and not a private dinner at their home.

“We were thinking of going to Spain this summer since you were learning Spanish, Natalia” Melina said deliberately, watching her daughter tense up once again “Just like old times”

“That would mean you guys aren’t coming” Natasha mumbled and her mother’s features hardened.

“Watch your mouth, Natalia” her mother said sternly and you looked at her, eyes darkened with something close to hatred “I was hoping you could join us, darling”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as your girlfriend’s grip tightened around your hand. A silent plead to decline. And it wasn’t like you could endure the same treatment for more than a night.

“We can’t, Mrs Romanoff” you shrugged and offered her a smirk when Melina frowned.

“We? I didn’t know you choose for my daughter, darling” Melina husked and Natasha’s grip tightened even more “I understand if you can’t, but I don’t see…”

“I don’t choose for her, Mrs Romanoff” you cut her off and her jaw clenched. Melina hated to be interrupted, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t delighted at the way you started losing patience “However, we already made plans. I was hoping Yelena could join us too”

Natasha’s mother hummed. If she didn’t know any better, she would fall for your lie because neither you nor Natasha had booked anything. But you were lying as if it was your second nature.

You knew how to behave. You knew how to lie. You were a perfect fit for a family that was so broken on the inside that had to pretend to be perfect on the outside. She chose right because you made sense.

“And what plans are those, may I ask?” Melina decided to play along, not like the trip itself thrilled her but it was a chance to keep Natasha in check.

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose. It’s a surprise for my sweet girlfriend” you said lovingly, looking at Natasha and caressing her cheek for a second. You looked back at her mother and feigned concern “I hope you don’t mind. We would like to spend time with our friends and I am dying to get to know Yelena” Melina tilted her head slightly to the side, Natasha swallowed nervously because she knew her mother could tell you were lying. You knew it too, but you would push enough “After all, if you want us to be family, I should start somewhere don’t you think?”

Melina licked her lips as you held your gaze. You didn’t miss a beat when lying to her, you didn’t care that she knew you were doing it, you would do anything for Natasha.

If only her daughter was as strong as you were instead of a coward.

You remained unbothered, despite feeling your pulse spiking and your fingers twitching but you wouldn’t let the woman take more than she already had. She didn’t get to choose over you or Natasha anymore, not as long as you were together.

“Well, we will postpone it then” Melina finally said with a delighted smirk and looked at Yelena “If you also want to go, you are free to do so, sweetheart” she looked back to you with twinkling eyes “We want this marvellous woman to be a Romanoff, don’t we?”

It sounded like an implicit promise that whatever she wanted, she would get. And if she wanted control of you and Natasha, she eventually would get it. Because in Melina’s mind, having someone so fierce wasn’t a problem, it was entertaining and refreshing.

A challenge that her daughters never were.

(—)

Natasha plopped on the sofa as soon as you arrived to the apartment.

The ride back home was silent; the redhead seemed to be deep in thought and you decided to give her space because Melina really did a number on her.

However, Natasha kept running in her mind the way you stood up for her. The way you handled Melina as if you really didn’t care what she thought of you. And her skin buzzed with need.

She would be lying if she said the idea hadn’t crossed her mind. It had, multiple times. But that night, her body was screaming to get over herself and ask you to do it. She needed you to because now she felt so safe around you.

And maybe the timing would be a little odd, but between you there was no judgement. So she could only hope you wouldn’t think to deep into it.

Natasha tossed her head back, resting it over the sofa as her cheeks flushed and watched you sit next to her in silence. The lights deemed and the moonlight pouring through the window panels.

You curled a strand of her hair in your finger and watched her carefully.

All night, you both were too focused on her mother to give yourself a minute to admire how freaking hot she looked. But Natasha always looked hot with whatever she wore. Or maybe you were always horny when it came to her.

You didn’t want to push, though. Last time she was too silent, she had a breakdown and maybe that’s what she needed that night. Besides, you already fucked twice that day so you had to keep your hormones in check.

It really was one hell of a day.

“Do you want to talk about it, my love?” you offered after a few minutes in silence and Natasha looked at you “We can go to sleep if you don’t want to”

The redhead shook her head “My mother has always been like that. I really don’t care”

She moved closer to you and she rested her head over your chest as you wrapped an arm around her. You kissed the top of her head and she nuzzled your chest.

“You know it’s okay if you do, right? I won’t judge” you whispered and Natasha bit her lip “What else is in that pretty head of yours, my love?”

Natasha looked at you, eyes flicked down to your lips and then back to your eyes. You raised a brow and smirked slightly.

“You are in my mind” she whispered and her hands grabbed your hips, bringing you over her lap “You are so hot when you are in control”

“Hm, you always say I’m hot” you purred as she kissed your neck “And I lost my patience at the end”

“Even then you remained a lady, princess” Natasha licked your neck and you moaned “I have a request tonight”

You looked at her and her eyes darkened with lust and need. You caressed her cheek and she leaned into your touch.

“What do you need, my love?” you brushed your nose against hers and she bit her lip “Want to fuck me dumb?” you teased and she giggled.

“I always do that” she whimpered at the thought and brushed her lips against yours “That’s why I want you to fuck me. Silence my mind and make me yours”

You moaned at the thought and your lips captured hers. Lips moving hungrily as her hands roamed your body. You rolled your hips over hers and she moaned against your mouth as you took control of the kiss.

Natasha always took over the situation. Only twice you had been the one to top her and it was out of possession and jealousy. You even expected her to want control that night and you would always give it to her.

But after the night you both had, with the constant pressure to behave in front of her family and she needing to be perfect at all times, it was only natural that she needed to let go of herself.

And you would do anything for her.

Yes, that day was a living hell. You went from fucking to a melt down and ended up facing the most infuriating woman you had ever met aside from your mother.

So maybe you blowing some steam too would help you both settle and leave the night behind. Losing yourselves in each other’s bodies only made sense.

“Let’s go to my room, my love” you mumbled and she nodded, standing up with you wrapped around her hips.

The redhead put you down and you kissed her again. Tenderly and lovingly, lips moving so slow that Natasha started to relax as your fingers worked slowly over her clothes.

You moved down to her neck as she tossed her head back, her clothes landing over the floor as you took piece by piece until she was left in only her boxers. The redhead whimpered when you rubbed her cock over the fabric and you smiled softly, pulling back to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You are so perfect, my love. Will you behave tonight?” you whispered and she nodded as your fingers traced her jawline “Help me out of my dress, yes? No kissing, though”

“But-“ Natasha started to protest but you tutted “Yes”

You turned around and the redhead started unzipping your dress. She took her time, enjoying the way your bare skin came to vision and the bruises from earlier were visible — the ones you didn’t cover.

Natasha was used to have her lips all over you when undressing you and she could feel now the tension in her body trying not to lick your back or your neck.

The dress hit the floor and you stepped outside of it. Red lingerie that made Natasha’s dick twitch as you turned to look at her with a soft smile.

“Go and grab the chair from the corner, my love” you whispered, caressing her cheek and Natasha licked her lips “Come on, do it”

The redhead walked and followed your orders. She expected you to be more rough with her just like she was with you. Instead, you were being sweet and caring but your tone was still commanding and firm. And something ignited inside of her.

You signalled her to sit once the chair was in front of the bed and she did as told. Fingers tapping anxiously over her thighs as you took a moment to admire her.

“From now on you won’t talk, you won’t move and you won’t touch” you started, moving around the chair and stopping behind her. Lips brushing her ear as your perfectly manicured nails traced her collarbone sending a shiver down her spine “Unless I tell you too, my love. You are mine to control, mine to claim” you nip her earlobe and she whimpered “Let’s test your self-control”

Natasha watched you as you moved around your room, slow and deliberate steps as you placed a bullet vibrator on the bed and played some music for background noise. You stripped down your underwear and her breath hitched at your sight, her cock twitching again.

You offered her a faux innocent smile as you crawled over your bed, setting yourself close to the edge for her to be close enough, and the redhead started connecting the dots.

You didn’t need to get rough over her to ruin her, you already knew the right way.

Your fingers trailed down your chest, teasingly and slowly as your eyes focused on her. Her fingers stopped tapping over her thighs and instead, she started curling them anxiously as she followed the movements of your hands.

You took your time, dimmed lights and the moonlight giving you the perfect spotlight for your little show. You almost thought you would be feeling a little shy by doing this but Natasha knew every corner of your body better than you did, there was no point in hiding anymore.

When you spread your legs, Natasha growled and almost jumped out of the chair but you tutted and watched her clench her jaw with desperation. She moaned again when you spat on your fingers and started rubbing your clit gently, teasing you and her all at once.

Green eyes were focused on your glistened cunt, her cock getting hard with every second that passed and nibbling her lip trying to follow orders, to make you happy, to show you she could do anything and everything you wanted.

Even when her cock started to throb achingly under her boxers and her fingers dug into her skin the moment you started to use the vibrator and your moans filled the air.

One of your fingers teased your entrance and you whimpered, trying to go slow despite your body asking you to go faster but your pleasure wasn’t your own anymore, it was about your girlfriend that seemed in pain as her eyes were glued between your legs.

“Oh fuck, do you like the view, baby?” you whimpered, starting to pump two fingers slowly and Natasha took a moment to watch your face.

You were biting your lip trying to hold back your moans but it was impossible, the mere thought of Natasha watching you pleasure yourself was driving you to the edge. Her own boxers were as ruined as your soaked sheets and her hands started to move unconsciously, trying to get some relief but you tutted and she whimpered again.

“Your cock is mine to touch. Not yours” you growled and tossed your head back in pleasure “Fuck, Nat, this feels so good”

“Please, let me…” you looked at her and she shut her mouth.

“Did I tell you to talk, my love?” you asked between moans and she shook her head as your hips bucked up seeking more “God, fuck”

You kept going, edging yourself as much as you could even when you so desperately needed release. Your arousal dripping down and your eyes focused on Natasha’s bulge that looked painful, her nails scratching her thighs to behave and her neck flushed as she tightened her jaw.

Her only sounds were whimpers and whines, specially if you seemed close and you slowed down. As if it was physically hurting her too. It probably was.

By the fifth attempt, your body had enough and your abdomen tightened. Natasha’s mouth watered and she leaned closer, feeling her cock twitch against her abdomen and her pre-cum leaking through the fabric.

But she needed you close and she was doomed to only watch.

Your moans turned a pitch higher, your toes curled and sweat was glistening your flushed body as you kept your movements going. You screamed out her name as your legs trembled, feeling your orgasm crashing down and your back arching.

The redhead gripped the armrests of the chair, knuckles turning white as she watched you ride down your high with soft whimpers and moans.

You were panting when your eyes met hers, Natasha was already pleading you silently to be touched or at least to touch you and you chuckled breathlessly as she bit her lip.

“Does it hurt, my love?” you cooed and the redhead nodded, you moved closer to the edge “Come here. Crawling, baby” you purred and Natasha swallowed before falling on her knees and started to crawl towards you. You patted your thigh and she rested her head against it, your scent filling her lungs and making her whimper with the proximity “This is the only way you will submit, Natasha. Here, in bed and with me” you brushed her hair as she nuzzled your thigh, your skin still buzzing with need “Do you understand, baby? You can use your words”

“Yes” she husked and you whimpered at the sound of her raspy tone.

“Yes, what? I know you want to say it” you said sweetly as her cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red because you read her so well “Say it, my love. You will always be safe here”

Natasha looked up, green eyes full of adoration and lust. She truly felt safe with you, so much that the side of her that yearned for care and love was now unlocked. The side that wasn’t in control and always got frustrated because someone else took it away from her instead of her giving it out willingly.

Except that night. The redhead was giving you herself fully.

“Yes, mommy” Natasha whimpered at the words and you smiled proudly, thumb brushing her lower lip just to be replaced by the two fingers you used.

“Open up and suck them clean, my love” she did as told and you moaned.

Your chest swelled with pride and devotion but also with admiration because the whole thing wasn’t something easy to follow when you both were used to the roles to be swapped. You didn’t even know you had it in you.

Yet, you were there feeling the weight of power and control. And you swore to yourself, you would never take advantage of it because Natasha was trusting you.

“Look at me, my love. Suck gently” you purred and green eyes focused on you and she did as told “Listen again, carefully. No more submitting to her, baby. You are strong and so capable of doing things” you praised and Natasha moaned “This is the only place you will bend for someone and outside of here, you will be your own self. You are perfect, Natasha” you pulled out your fingers and she nuzzled you hand when you caressed her cheek “My perfect girl. Do you understand what I’m saying, baby?”

“Yes, mommy” she said softly as you smiled at her “Only here. Only with you”

“Exactly, my love” you got out of bed and knelt next to her, cradling her face between your hands as her eyes twinkled with devotion “Do you have any idea how sad I was to watch your spark falter?” Natasha shook her head and tears filled her eyes as you brushed her nose with yours “I know it’s not your fault, baby. We will face this together. As a team” a tear rolled down her cheek and you pecked it “You and I are now a team. Neither your mother nor mine will have a say in our lives as individuals nor as a couple. Do you understand?”

She nodded as your thumbs wiped her tears away “Yes, mommy”

“Good girl. I’m so proud of you” you pecked her lips and she mewled when you didn’t go for more “Hey, don’t get impatient. Take your boxers off and sit at the edge. I will give you your reward because you watched me and didn’t touch yourself” you praised again and Natasha moaned.

She stood up and removing her underwear was painful as her cock was hard as a rock, between the praises and the tears she managed to get even more turned on. You were so caring and sweet, so motherly that her insides started to feel funny.

Who would’ve thought that the girl that loved degrading her girlfriend so much, had a praise kink herself?

You placed the chair a little closer and went to the closet for the full body mirror you had hanging on your bathroom door. Natasha watched you as you carefully placed it in front of her, against the chair, and you took a moment to kiss her sweetly.

You knelt behind her, your hands over her shoulders as she straightened up and you smiled at her through the mirror. Her cock was resting proudly against her abdomen, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were set on you.

“I will never get tired of telling you how perfect you are, my love” you whispered as your fingers trailed down her chest and your lips brushed her neck “Even when you are a pain in my ass, I can’t stop thinking how lucky I am to have you” Natasha moaned, feeling your nails tracing her abs as your other hand fisted her hair “Do you want me to touch you, baby?”

“Yes, mommy” she breathed out.

Your lips brushed her ear and she bit her lip “Beg, my love. How much do you need me?”

“So much. It hurts, please” she moaned as your tiny hand wrapped around her shaft “Fuck” her faced moved back, resting against your shoulder and her eyes closing as you moved your hand slowly “More, mommy. Please”

“Then look at yourself in the mirror, Natasha” you purred in her ear and her eyes met yours through the mirror “Look at you, so damn perfect” you pumped your hand a little faster but not enough “So mine. Did watching me finger myself turn you on, baby?”

“Fuck, yes” Natasha moaned, her eyes watching your hand work around her dick that looked bigger for your tiny hand and still, you handled her so well “I’ve never been this hard”

“Is that so, my love?” you chuckled and kissed her neck “Just for me? I’m so flattered, my love” you licked her skin and Natasha moaned louder, your thumb swirling around her aching tip “Who is Maria, baby?” you asked feigning innocence, pretending you didn’t feel jealous when Melina mentioned her and Natasha whimpered “You said I am your first girlfriend, did you lie?”

Your hand pumped her faster and the redhead felt dizzy. You tutted every time she tried to close her eyes and forced her to keep watching herself being jerked off as you questioned her.

“I- I didn’t, please” she whined when you slowed down and you started again “She was- she was the first girl I slept with” you growled next to her ear and Natasha moaned.

“Was she good? Why did your family know about her?” you husked and your hand moved with more purpose, your other hand tugging her hair and your girlfriend mewled “Don’t you dare to cum, Natasha. Answer”

“She- she was the daughter of one of my dad’s old friends” she whined again when you slowed down and her head started spinning as you coaxed answers out of her “She was my first, mommy”

“You already told me that. I asked if she was good” you grunted and your hand moved faster again, wet with nothing but pre-cum that kept glistening Natasha’s perfect cock.

“No?” she moaned and you raised a brow.

“You are asking me?”

Natasha shook her head “No, no. She wasn’t” she whined again because you kept getting her close and slowing down and your possessive tone was turning her on, making her skin tingle with excitement.

“Tell me about it. Did she give you your first handjob? Your first blowjob? You went all the way with her?” you whispered in her ear and Natasha whimpered, knuckles turning white at the edge of the bed.

“You don’t need to-“ she grunted when you tugged forcefully her hair and your darkened eyes met hers through the mirror “She- she sucked my dick, mommy. And the second time I fucked her pussy” you hummed and Natasha bit her lip nervously.

“A second time” you stated as you kept edging your girlfriend that could explode any second now because you knew she loved when you were possessive around her “Was her mouth better than mine?”

“No, mommy” Natasha whimpered as you fastened your movements.

“Was her pussy tighter than mine? Is that why you came so fast?” you whispered in her ear and the redhead started trembling “Answer and I will let you cum, my love”

“No pussy is better than yours, mommy” Natasha forced herself to say as her vision started to blur “Yours was made just for me” she moaned again as you chuckled, your own slick dripping down your thighs.

“You can cum, baby. Is my hand o…” your girlfriend screamed out your name spilling over your hand and her abdomen, she was panting as her head lolled back against your chest “I was going to offer my mouth” you giggled and Natasha whined “Shh, it’s okay, my love. You did so good for me” you licked the cum off your hand and then cleaned her abdomen “God, I could survive only eating your cum” you moaned and Natasha chuckled against your skin.

“Would you now?” she murmured and you hummed “I miss being inside of you, though” she pouted and you looked down and kissed her temple.

“Who said I was finished, my love? I was giving you a minute” you purred and Natasha whimpered “Get comfortable in bed”

The redhead crawled over the bed as you returned everything to its rightful place. Green eyes were set on the ceiling with her arms folded behind her head and she looked heavenly, her toned muscles shinning under the moonlight glistened with sweat.

You bit your lip as you crawled over the bed and hovered her body. Natasha was taller than you but in that moment you looked bigger and powerful. She moaned at your sight and at the confidence you exuded.

“You are so perfect, mommy” she whispered, trembling fingers caressing your cheek. The redhead was mesmerised by you, knowing what she needed without asking, without judging “You were made just for me”

You smiled and leaned closer, lips brushing hers and her breath hitched with anticipation. Your tongue outlined her lips and Natasha inhaled sharply.

“My sweet girlfriend, always saying the right things” you murmured against her lips “Were you always this much of a sweet talker?” Natasha looked you in the eyes as hers twinkled and she shook her head “Good. Because I was never like this before neither” she tried to close the gap between your lips and you pulled back, smirking as she whined “Tell me what you want, my love”

“You” she whimpered, your hand wrapping around her cock again as Natasha started getting hard.

“You have me already” you murmured “Be more specific, baby”

“I want you to kiss me, mommy” she whispered and you got closer again, brushing your lips teasingly as the redhead whined “Please, kiss me”

You hummed as your eyes closed and your lips captured hers. Natasha tried to rush it, match it with your hand movements, but you didn’t let her. You marked a steady and sweet pace. You nibbled her lower lip and she moaned, fully hard on your hand.

You lined up her cock with your entrance, breaking the kiss just to watch your movement as Natasha whimpered. You were soaked and warm, taking inch by inch so slowly it hurt.

The redhead loved going rough with you, fuck you until you were a babbling and moaning mess. And you loved it as much too because it gave you safety and freedom. She needed the control and you needed it out of your hands.

With the role swap, you realised Natasha needed you to take care of her and you needed to show her you could, you did care about her in every sense. More than the power exchange, was about the sense of knowing someone out there actually saw her for who she was. Not someone, you.

Your feelings were also running down your skin and making it tingle as much as hers. The connection and need on another level. And when she bottomed out and you exhaled, you almost swore you saw the famous red thread of fate between you.

Natasha’s head started spinning as you rolled your hips tenderly, hands pressed on her chest to help you and your eyes softened and caring.

Her hands grabbed your hips and you didn’t smack them away, you let her because she was just holding you to tell you she was there, she was feeling it too.

You kept moving painfully slow, soft grunts and moans filling the air as your eyes were locked with each other. Wet sounds getting louder as the time passed and your bodies covered with sweat as you started fastening the pace.

There were a lot of things you could’ve said or done, but your eyes were louder than your moans. And Natasha understood. You had fucked so many times but that night you truly were one.

One hand blindly patted the bed and showed you the bullet vibrator. You smiled and nodded because she was asking you permission with her cheeks all flushed as if she had never manhandled you.

Natasha turned it on and you whimpered when she pressed it, bouncing a little faster over her as you tossed your head back and rolled your eyes as you praised her for being so good to you, only coaxing grunts from the redhead’s throat.

“Fuck, my love, that feels amazing” you moaned and she sat with one arm wrapped around your waist as you kept bouncing and the other kept the vibrator between your bodies “God, Nat, slow down. I want to cum with you”

You pressed your foreheads together, sweat and breath mixing. The closeness of your bodies feeling more intimate as you locked your eyes with hers. Her plumped lips parted as she moaned along with you, your skin burning as much as hers.

“I’m close too, mommy” she whimpered and you moaned even louder.

You took the vibrator away from her hand and made her wrap her arms around you as you wrapped yours around her neck, pulling her closer as she hid her face in the crook of your neck.

You kept rolling your hips and Natasha kissed your neck as she felt your walls clenching around her, bringing her to the edge and her whimpers hit your skin. But what made you both cum was your words.

“You are so good, baby. You are enough for me, for you, for everyone. Even now you make me feel so special” Natasha’s teeth sank on your skin as she sucked desperately “Yes, baby, just like that. Cum inside of me. Be even more perfect, be my good girl”

Natasha screamed against your skin and you moaned her name as you held her close, feeling your bodies shuddering against each other as she filled you up.

Time froze as your pants filled the air and your chests moved up and down but you didn’t dare to break the embrace. Slowly you pulled back enough to look at her in the eyes, you kissed her passionately as if words wouldn’t be enough for that moment.

In the past, ripping those words out of you would’ve taken ages, months for you to truly feel them and mean it. But when you broke the kiss and you met green eyes full of adoration and trust. They rolled out with ease, sinking in your bones and hers. They were real and honest.

Three words. Eight letters.

“I love you” you whispered with your forehead pressed against hers and your hands cradling her face.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and her grip tightened around you, almost afraid of breaking the moment, afraid of waking up if it was a dream.

But it wasn’t. They were real as much as you. As much as her own feelings. So it was easy to reply.

“I love you too”

———

For more chapters, visit: series masterlist

[jehnqt]

EHEHEHEH AWHHH MY CUTIE PIES

[wandaparadise]

They are the cutest, aren’t they???

[videovamptramp]

i would do anything for you to love me

(song: american hero - rainbow kitten surprises // natasha x fem reader)

summary - you have an obvious crush on natasha, and consistently do little things that prove so. though, she’s a grump who doesn’t know how to respond to your advances. this ultimately leads to her hurting your feelings.

warnings: mean nat, grumpy natasha, y/n is too sweet for her own good. a bit angsty but fluffy ending

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“hey nat!” you exclaim, and natasha nearly drops her coffee mug due to the sound of your high pitched voice. natasha turns to glare at you, “how many times do i have to tell you not to call me that?" she snaps, and your shoulders deflate a bit. “sorry, natasha! i just wanted to see if you were alright. you came back from that mission yesterday and you didn’t even have dinner...” you say, and natasha turns her head to keep her back towards you. “i’m fine.” it was an obvious lie, but natasha didn’t know that you knew that.

you merely nod, “okay, nat— natasha. i just brought you some of those banana and nutella crepe’s you like from that place downtown. here.” you reveal, as you place the to-go box on the counter that the redhead was leaning on. “thanks.” natasha mutters, and you smile widely at the small moment of politeness. natasha turns her head to see you smiling like an idiot, and her scowl returns as something unwanted in her stomach flutters. “is that all you wanted?” natasha asks a bit harshly, and your smile falters. “oh, yeah! sorry! i’ll leave you alone now!” you promise as you scurry away, leaving natasha alone. at least she thought she was alone.

“god, you’re such a cunt.” yelena murmurs, half asleep as she walks into the kitchen of the compound. natasha glares at her younger sister, “well good morning to you too.” natasha hisses, and yelena rolls her eyes as she reaches for a clean mug. yelena doesn’t say anything else to the redhead as she pours herself a cup of fresh coffee. "what has you in such a crap mood?” natasha asks, evidently annoyed. “nothing. i just figured we were all being asshole’s today, considering how you just behaved with y/n.” yelena’s response causes natasha to scoff. “oh please, i’m always like that with her. she’s like, borderline obsessed with me. nothing i say bothers her.” the older woman explains with a careless shrug, and yelena blinks at her sister in disbelief.

“she has a crush on you, идиот (idiot). god forbid somebody actually cares about you.” yelena whispers with a hiss in order to keep herself from snapping at her sister. natasha rolls her eyes, “i don’t want her to care about me. i don’t care about her at all. the sooner she realizes that, the better.” natasha simplifies, and shakes her head in dismay, before scoffing. ”you don’t deserve her anyways.” yelena mutters as she reaches for the to-go box that was originally for natasha. natasha glares, “that’s mine—” “you don’t deserve it.” yelena cuts in with a snarky tone, before she takes the crepes and coffee back to her room, leaving natasha alone.

natasha throws her coffee out into the sink, by now it's gone dog-nose cold. she tries to continue on with her day after that, though her thoughts of you, and the amount of unnecessarily sweet things you do for her, circulate through her mind. the way you leave files on her desk with cute little sticky notes. you bring her lunch or dinner up to her room, whenever she’s too mentally exhausted to join the team in the kitchen. you even bring her a protein shake after her practices and training sessions. natasha doesn’t remember telling you her favorite flavor protein shake, but you somehow know it’s peanut butter and chocolate.

the next morning natasha wakes up, and the kitchen is abnormally empty. she opens the cabinet, hoping someone bought new coffee so she wouldn’t have to. low and behold, there was a weeks worth of coffee in the cabinet with a sticky note and your handwriting on it.

“hey natasha! i’m going out of town for a week but i restocked the place with your favorite things! — y/n.”

natasha reaches for the note, and frowns. out of town? you didn’t mention a vacation to her. then again, she hadn’t really been in a talking mood yesterday. she never really was. “morning natasha. oh sweet!! someone bought coffee!” bucky exclaims as he reaches for the new tub of coffee beans. natasha stuffs the note in her pocket, “hey, where’s y/n?” natasha asks, and bucky furrows his brows. “she went out of town to visit her family for a week. i thought she told everyone about it the other day?” bucky questions, and natasha thinks back to a few days ago.

“hey nat!” you exclaim, your bubbly voice filling the gym as you bounce in. natasha scowls at the sight of you, “what do you want?” she asks, sounding harsher than usual. “oh, i was just looking for you to tell you something! i brought your shake!” you admit as you hand her the protein shake. “look, y/n, whatever you have to say, save it. i’m not in the mood today.” she snaps, and you frown. “o-oh okay. sorry nat i—”

“and my name is natasha!” she raises her voice and you flinch a bit. a wave a of guilt washes over her for a second, but she keeps her arms crossed and a glare on her face. “sorry natasha.” you mumble before walking out, and leaving natasha to train. “wow.” wanda chirps in, and natasha looks over at the other redhead. “what?” natasha asks angrily, “she just wanted to give you a shake and have a conversation.” wanda points out, and natasha rolls her eyes. “i don’t want to talk to her. and i didn’t ask her to make me a shake. i never ask her for anything. you’d think she’d take the hint and stop already.” natasha grumbles, and wanda nods. “well, maybe one day she will. i do think you’ll miss the actions more than she will though. so be careful what you wish for.” wanda warns, and natasha waves her off with narrowed her eyes as shoves her earbuds in and takes a big chug of her shake. it’s peanut butter and chocolate. her favorite.

“i guess she forgot to tell me.” natasha mutters, and bucky nods. “well, she’ll be back on sunday night.” he assures her as he opens the fridge. “oh sweet, there’s new bacon!!” he exclaims in a giddy tone, and natasha swallows thickly. you’re not here and you still did something for her.

natasha feels your absence throughout the day. it’s as if the compound is dimmer, and lacking any life. nobody brings natasha her shake, and she had to make it herself; though it doesn’t taste as good as when you make it. natasha always uses too much peanut butter. the rest of natasha’s day is no better. she doesn’t join the team for dinner, and she isn’t greeted by the sound of your soft knocks and a plate of her favorite foods.

natasha’s entire week without you is unexpectedly hell. for some reason, you seem to be the only person who seeks natasha out. you know when she’s having a bad day, you know when she’s had a terrible mission, you even know when she’s in a good mood. natasha doesn’t understand how you know all these things about her, she’s never once bothered to open up to you. it makes her feel a surge of guilt as she recalls all the times you’d try to talk to her, and she’d turn you down. she wishes she understood why she suddenly felt so weak without you. why her days dragged on when she didn’t hear the sound of your voice.

you return on sunday night, and as soon as natasha sees you, she knows somethings wrong. you smile at her, but you don’t greet her with your usual “hey nat!”. you drag your bags up to your room, and without a word you don’t come out until the morning. natasha doesn’t sleep that night; you’ve been gone for a week, and you didn’t even bother to say hello to her. why? you’re in the kitchen the next morning, chatting with yelena, “hey natasha.” you greet her with a soft smile. she doesn’t enjoy the way her full name sounds rolling off your tongue, despite how many times she demanded it.

“morning.” she greets back, eyeing you for a moment before shuffling passed bucky and thor to the coffee machine. natasha makes herself a cup of coffee, and can’t help but listen to you and yelena quietly talk about some show yelena’s watching. she doesn’t understand why it bothers her that you’re talking to someone else and not her. it’s what she wanted isn’t it? to be left alone by you. natasha huffs, and is out of the kitchen as soon as her mug is full of piping hot coffee.

today you don’t bring natasha a shake, and you don’t go out of your way to see or talk to her. natasha is in a grumpier mood than usual because of it. she hopes this is just a momentary thing. maybe you’re just taking it out on her for the way she acted before you left. you’ll be back to normal again by tomorrow. right? natasha doesn’t know why she's hoping that’s the case.

that definitely isn’t the case. the next three days pass and you barely say a word to natasha. you still smile at her, but the shine in your eyes seems to have disappeared. natasha has a haunting realization that you may have realized what yelena has been saying all along; you deserve better. better than natasha and her complex moods. better than the way she treats you. better than her and her need to push away anyone who truly cares about her.

natasha hasn’t been to dinner with the team for two weeks now, and you haven’t once brought her a plate. something about the sudden distance makes natasha inexplicably angry. your cheerfulness in your voice is gone whenever speaking to her, and she can’t figure out why your smile doesn’t reach your eyes like it did before. it takes two and a half weeks of this for natasha to get fed up and finally do something about it. she finds you on the treadmill in the gym alone, getting your cardio in.

this time, natasha tries a different approach. she brings you a protein shake. “hey. this is for you.” natasha says bluntly, and it causes your running to falter as you stop the electric machine and face natasha. she’s holding out a chocolate shake, and you eye it carefully. “i swear i didn’t poison it.” she promises, and you raise your eyebrows. “did— did you make it? for me?” you ask a bit uncertainly. natasha’s brows are scrunched together, and she scoffs.

“well, i don’t see anyone else in here do you?” she asks impatiently, still holding the protein shake. you gladly take it, and a small smile tugs at your lips. “thanks natasha.” you thank her, before taking a sip. it has way too much chocolate in it, but you don’t mind. the gesture is undoubtedly sweet. natasha stands there for a moment, and you blink up at her. “it’s good.” you obviously lie politely in order to spare her feelings, and natasha rolls her eyes. “you make them better than i do.” she grunts out, making your smile widen.

for some reason the curve on your lips makes natasha’s chest flutter. she clears her throat, “i’m uh— i’m sorry if i scared you off. i don’t take to kindness too well... your little acts of genuine kindness scared me. it wasn’t my intention to be such a jerk to you.” natasha apologizes, refusing to meet your eyes. you’re a bit surprised by the unexpected apology, and you shake your head quickly. “you didn’t!” you respond without thinking, “you didn’t scare me off... the truth is it’s been a tough few weeks for me. i’m not very close with my parents and whenever i visit, a fight always breaks out. it wasn’t my intention to make you think i was shutting you out, i’ve just been a little sad since going back home.” you promise, and her eyes widen.

“wait, so you... you aren’t angry with the way i’ve been treating you?” she asks and you shrug. “sure, sometimes you hurt my feelings, but sometimes i can see in your eyes how much you’re hurting. you deserve kindness, natasha. even if you don’t know how to accept it.” your voice is sincere, and natasha’s heart feels like it’s being squeezed so tightly it might pop. something inside of her snaps and she doesn’t even feel the tears brimming in her eyes. your eyes almost widen at the sight of her tears, “why? why are you so nice to me all the time?” natasha asks in a frustrated manner. why is it impossible to hate you? why doesn’t she want to?

“because i know what it feels like when the world hasn’t been kind. like i said, you deserve kindness, natasha.” you iterate, and the redhead lets her chest rise and fall before saying “yo-you can call me nat.” the smile you give her makes it feel like someone lit a match in her belly.

after that, there’s quite a difference in your friendship with natasha; if you could even call it a friendship. the two of you were nearly always together; during breakfast, during training sessions. on late nights doing paperwork, you’d keep natasha company, and she didn’t mind. it goes on like this for a few months, the subtle flirting, light touches, and longing looks. everyone on the team notices, including you both. the problem is, neither of you are brave enough to make the first move.

until you’re both put on a mission with peter and steve. it’s supposed to be an easy mission; peter and steve infiltrate the building across town with the databases and broadcasts, while natasha sets up a bomb in the secret hydra location downtown. except, it’s two minutes passed the time natasha’s supposed to have came out, and she still isn’t here. “steve— don’t start the bomb, nat’s not here yet.” you order, “what? *static* — do you mean— *static* —ot there?” steve’s mics chooses the worst time to start cutting out.

“rogers, stop the plan i’m going in for nat!” you say, and the mic goes silent. “steve?” you ask, but you don't get a response. within a moment a loud explosion sounds throughout the building, and your eyes go wide as the blood goes straight to your ears. you don’t even think twice before rushing out of the van, and running into the building. your eyes dart around, and you find the stairway right way. you go downstairs to where natasha’s supposed to be, and your eyes widen as you see she’s pretty busy fighting off three guys.

you rush over and pry one guy away from her, punching him square in the nose, then kicking him in the crotch. natasha uses one of her widow bites to tase the man, and she doesn’t notice you pulled your gun out until she hears the first shot. she looks over and sees the large man slump forward, and you don’t hesitate to shoot the other right between the eyes. natasha has never seen you use a gun before, and it causes her mouth to go dry for a moment.

you look at her, acting on complete instinct, as you grab her wrist and pull her for the nearest exit. not even a second after you push her out of the building, and stumble on top of her, the building collapses. surely leaving no survivors on the inside. you let out a silent breath of relief, nearly forgetting you’re literally on top of natasha romanoff. natasha pushes you off, glaring at you, “are you out of your fucking mind?!” the redhead shouts, and you frown up at her, propping yourself up on your wrists as she stands up. “why are you yelling at me!?” you ask loudly, your ears still ringing from the explosion.

“because you’re an idiot! you were supposed to follow orders and wait in the van!” natasha looks like shes seething, clenching her fists as she glowers at you. the police sirens snap you guys out of your feud, as you stand up. “get back in the van.” you order, and she scoffs as she follows you back into the van. as soon as you're both in, you speed away from the scene.

“rogers? parker? are you there?” natasha asks, as she uses the emergency walkie. “we’re here, natasha. where y/n? she was trying to tell me something before we got cut out.” steve says over the walkie talkie, and you look over your shoulder, “nothing. it doesn’t matter now.” you say, and natasha glares at you. “doesn’t matter?! you could’ve died! she completely went off orders and ran into the building, rogers.” natasha throws you under the bus and your eyes widen. “what?? y/n, you were supposed to wait in the van!” he reminds and you huff in frustration, hands gripping the steering wheel as you drive back to the compound.

“we’ll talk about this when we meet back at the compound.” steve adds, and your shoulder slouch a bit. you know you’re in for it. when you get to the compound, natasha completely ignores you as she practically stomps to the elevator. you sigh as you watch you her walk away. “y/n, your bleeding.” steve points out, as he gestures to your shoulder. “i think one of the guys i was fighting had a knife or something? it’s just a slash.” you assure him, and peter shakes his head. “that’s a pretty deep slash.” he mutters and steve flashes him a look, “that’s because it’s not a slash. it’s a gash. you need to get to medbay and get that stitched up.” he orders and you want to protest, but the stern look on his face advises you not to.

“yes sir.” you reply as you walk away with your head down. you aren’t upset that steve is disappointed, you’re more upset that natasha is angry at you for saving her. did she really expect you to just sit back and wait for her to die in an explosion? did she really think you weren’t going to go in there for her? your thoughts whirl around your head the entire way to medbay. you don’t mean to be so sensitive, but you can’t help but feel hurt as you realize natasha is angry with you. you don’t like it when natasha is upset with you.

“hey steve, where’s y/n?” yelena asks, sitting on the edge of the countertop as natasha rummages through the fridge for a beer. “medbay. she has a gash in her shoulder that needs stitches.” he admits and natasha knocks over the tub of juice as she practically pulls her head out of the fridge. “she got hurt?” the redhead asks demandingly, and peter shakes her head. “it’s not that bad, it’s just a cut.” he reassures the widow, and natasha slams the fridge shut.

“just a cut? a cut she didn’t even mention— oh i’m gonna kill her!” natasha hisses and the team hears her heavy footsteps as she angrily makes her way to the elevator. “natasha.” steve calls out, keeping his voice calm. she spins around, “what?!” she asks harshly, and he flashes her a look. “go easy on her. i don’t know why she went against my orders, but she sounded frantic before the mic cut off. whatever it was, i’m sure it was worth it to her.” he says, and natasha blinks a few times, the anger slowly leaving her body. you ran into that building for her. if you two would’ve left a second later, you’d both be dead.

natasha doesn’t respond; she swallows thickly, and makes her way to the elevator. the entire way to the medbay she thinks about how mean she was, after you quite literally put your life at risk for her. she also thinks about how sexy you looked while firing a gun. the beep of the elevator brings natasha out of her thoughts as she steps out, and she can already hear you and bruce going back and fourth. “come on, just tell me if it’s green.” you beg and he flashes you a stringent expression. “i’m not going to tell you if hulk’s junk is green!” he scolds, sounding extremely irritated and embarrassed while he attempts to keep still. he was nearly halfway through with your stitches, but you weren't helping by squirming every other minute.

natasha chuckles, causing you both to look over at where she was standing, leaning against the doorway. “you know, i always wondered that too.” she reveals, and bruce rolls his eyes. “oh great, now you’re both here. it’s bad enough i have to listen to this one’s way too personal questions, now i have to make sure these stitches are perfect.” bruce mutters, and natasha smirks, “better make sure you do a great job, banner. and try not to hurt her." natasha says protectively. you blush obviously, and bruce rolls his eyes as he continues.

you glance over at natasha who’s staring intently at the wound on your shoulder. “are you still pissed at me?” you ask, pulling her out of her thoughts and back to reality. she meets your gaze, and she shrugs. “only when i look at you.” she blurts out, and you frown, you shift and bruce glares at you causing you to halt your movements. “did you really come all the way here to tell me you’re still pissed?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the redhead. she crosses her arms tightly, turning her head to the side so she doesn’t have to meet your eyes.

when she doesn’t respond you scoff, turning your own head so you wouldn’t have to look at her anymore either. natasha glances at you every couple of minutes until bruce is done, but you keep your sight locked on the wall beside you. “alright, i’ll give you some antibiotic cream for it, you know the drill. come back next week so i can take the stitches out.” he explains adamantly, and you do a poor imitation of a salute. “sir yes sir.” you joke, making him shake his head, but there’s a faint smile tugging at his lips. “don’t make this a habit, y/n/n.” he adds, and natasha’s piercing eyes snap over to you both. “she won’t.” the redhead answers for you, and you flash bruce a look. “you heard her.” you state, and bruce nods as he makes his way out.

he leaves you and natasha alone, and a silence washes over you both. you gnaw on your bottom lip as you glance at her, before your eyes begin to dart around the room. your kicking your right leg back and fourth in anticipation, mentally preparing yourself to get yelled at or scolded (or both) by natasha. “what you did was seriously stupid. you do get that right? you could’ve died.” the taller woman scolds, but her tone isn’t as harsh as before. you narrow your eyes at her, “you could’ve died! if i hadn’t gone in there... you... you wouldn’t be here right now.” the haunting realization hits you as the words leave your mouth. tears brim your eyes as you clench your fists, “i don’t care if you’re angry! i’d do it again in a heartbeat!” you snap, and natasha looks taken back at the confession. as if the thought of you risking your life for her was so far fetched. as if you don’t think about her every morning and every night. as if her rare smile doesn’t make your day. as if she isn't the only consistent thought running through your chaotic mind all damn day.

“i have been nothing but an asshole to you! do you see that or are you blind?? why would you want to risk your life for someone like me?!” natasha yells back, her nostrils flaring as she crosses her arms, unknowingly flexing her bicep muscles. you have to remind yourself not to ogle her. your fingernails dig into your palms, nearly drawing blood as a few tears leave your eyes. “because you’re not just a fucking asshole, natasha! you’re a person! you’re a great person, and i don’t care how self deprecating you are, you deserve to live! and i— i wouldn’t be able to if you weren’t around... okay?” your voice breaking towards the end as tears fall out of her eyes rapidly.

natasha’s demeanor changes, as her arms fall to her sides, and her jaw unclenches. “what do you mean?” she asks, and you scoff as you turn your head to look at the wall. “please don’t pretend like you don’t know.” you whisper in a pleading tone, and natasha stares at you with those intense emerald eyes. “pretend i don’t know what, y/n?” natasha questions again, this time her tone is more demanding. you look at her, your eyes full of emotions. she’s never seen you so passionately upset, “pretend that you don’t know i’m hopelessly in love with you!” you hiss, balling your fists as you look at her while you cry.

natasha’s eyes nearly widen at the confession, and she stares at you as if she can see right through you. you sigh, shaking your head and wiping your tears away with your palms, “i know you could never love me, and maybe that’s why you don’t understand why i couldn’t just sit back today and let... let you get hurt. i had to go in there, and i would do it again. no matter the outcome.” you iterate certainly, and natasha is looking at you with an unreadable expression. “you’re wrong.” natasha mutters, and you roll your eyes. “if you’re about to gaslight me into thinking i don’t love you, you can just go, nat. i’ve had a long day.” you say in a exhausted tone.

natasha grits her teeth, “you had a long day?! i just almost watched the woman i love get blown up because of me!” natasha shouts, and her hand clamps over her mouth as soon as the words leave her mouth. your eyebrows nearly meet your hairline as soon as you hear those words. “the— the woman you love...? you love me?” you ask, your tone laced with a bit of disbelief and giddiness as your eyes flutter up to meet hers. she takes a step backwards, shaking her head, “n-no i didn’t— i didn’t say that. you misheard.” she says simply, and you grin, finally the air is light again. you giggle despite your tears, “no, i’m pretty sure i heard correctly. i’m also pretty sure there’s high tech cameras in this room, i’ll just ask FRIDAY to run the video.” you shrug and she narrows her eyes at you. “you can, but then you’ll be disappointed because i didn’t say love.” she insists, lying right through her teeth.

“it’s too late for take backs, nat.” you flash her a feline smile, and she scoffs. “there’s nothing to take back!” she defends herself adamantly, and you frown. “oh... okay.” you feign disappointment, pretending to actually feel hurt. she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms again, “god, you’re such a baby. i can’t believe i’m in love with someone who acts like a child.” she murmurs, and your eyes light up. “you’re in love with me?!” you ask, and she looks up at the ceiling. “you keep mishearing things, y/n. you sure that bomb didn't affect your ears?" she plays dumb.

you groan in mock frustration, “naaat.” you drag out her name whiningly, and she can’t help but grin. “fine. maybe i said it. once or twice.” she murmurs finally giving in, and your face breaks out into a gigantic smile. “i knew it! i knew you loved me!” you exclaim as you throw your arms around her neck and pull her in for a hug as you stay seated on the small bed. she rolls her eyes, but eventually hugs back. “can i have a kiss now?! please?” you ask hopefully, and natasha sighs, rolling her eyes as she pretends to be annoyed.

she pulls away, and before you can say anything else, she’s cupping your jaw with one of her strong hands and leaning down to kiss you. your heart is on the brinks of exploding, and you have no idea where to put your hands, but they instinctively land on her waist while you kiss back. suddenly every dismal emotion you've felt today dissipates, and all you can feel is a burst of warm joy. when she pulls away there's this soft smile on her face, and her eyes are full of love. "totally worth almost dying." you whisper, and she rolls her eyes playfully as she leans in and kisses you again.

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠

18+ MINORS DNI

or: natasha and you almost get arrested in rome

part of the short n’ sweet universe

a/n: yes this is still natasha romanoff x reader, im just running out of good nat pictures to use 💔 i also want to go to italy now so there’s that

summary: family vacation in rome

warnings: smut (almost exclusively penetration, very brief handjob), exhibitionism, being horny in a church, mention of alcohol, brief mentions of breastfeeding, mild jealousy

word count: 10.6k

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It's an idea you have while still half asleep and scrolling through your phone. Sweaty, nursing bra undone, your cheek smushed into a pillow. Natasha isn't doing better — she's sprawled out on her stomach next to you, her fingers brushing against Niko's toes as he nurses.

Maybe it's not the best idea. You're both basically out of money. Doing something like this with a four month old borders on deranged. You barely have your shit together when at home — in your own apartment, in a country where you understand the official language. You're sleep deprived and in no condition to make a decision like that. But multiple parts of you yearn to escape for at least a week or two.

"I wanna go to Italy", you mumble, turning around your phone. Natasha peeks at the screen with squinted eyes. "Look how pretty."

She closes her eyes again and huffs. "You're insane."

"No, I'm in need of a break." You put your phone aside and reach out to pinch her earlobe. She doesn't even have the energy to jolt up. Niko kept the two of you up all night long. "So are you."

"I'm fine", she says and yawns. You raise your eyebrows.

Natasha isn't fine. Finals combined with a teething baby (that also went through a growth spurt not too long ago) drained her. Juggling college and basketball are hard enough, but add a baby to the mix and it's near impossible to stay sane.

"Come on", you drawl, running your fingertips down her arm this time. "Just the three of us. We'll eat pizza."

Without a word, she grabs her own phone and slides her finger a couple times. When she shows you the screen, a picture of a pizza on DoorDash has appeared. You roll your eyes and shove her hand away.

"Pizza", she declares proudly. "Fifteen minute delivery. I'll get the Italian flag on Amazon and we're peachy."

The look you give her makes her recoil a little. Niko unlatches, gurgles, then happily spits up all over you. The next look is even more intimidating, so Natasha grabs her phone again to show you a kiddie pool.

She gets hit in the face with a pillow before she can utter her next words. Instead, a grunt comes out of her. It's not too different from the sound she made in a different situation last night.

"Hey!"

"No", you retort, awkwardly turning around to grab some wet wipes. Niko's on his back now, yawning and smiling at Natasha. "Forget it. You're not half-assing this."

She rubs her face, frowning. It's not like she doesn't want to go on vacation — part of her is just hesitant. You don't have the money to go, after all. Maybe if you ask your parents it'd be a different story, but she's already desperate to prove that she can provide for you on her own.

"It's a nice alternative", she mutters, tossing her phone aside. Niko immediately tries reaching for it with his chubby hands. "We could have a nice time here, as well."

"Maybe", you agree, focusing on the baby again. She might be right. You're trying to convince yourself she is. Traveling with an infant seems like a task you're not ready for.

That half hearted, slightly mopey response doesn't hold up long. Not even five hours later — Niko screaming, your neighbors blasting heavy metal music, the stroller protesting against being folded again — you both give each other a look.

You're crying. Natasha's in an undershirt full of spit up. There are dark rings under her eyes, curtesy of the baby's owl like sleeping habits. She doesn't remember the last time she wasn't pumped full of adrenaline and cortisol. Going on vacation with a baby won't be the most relaxing thing either, but she'd rather suffer in Italy than at home.

"So...Italy?"

"Thought you'd never ask", you mutter, grabbing the stroller again and exhaling when it finally complies.

. . .

Neither of you have much experience planning vacations. Natasha's family never traveled much, at least internationally, and with you, it's always been your parents who booked flights and hotels and sightseeing tours.

It ends up being a nonstop flight, which is good. The bad thing is that your plane departs half past midnight.

Traveling with a baby is hard enough as it is, but when you also have to try and keep said baby asleep until you've boarded the plane, it turns into a nightmare. You're both walking on tiptoes — silently getting changed, grabbing your stuff, then very gently scooping Niko out of his crib.

Natasha cradles him. He stirs. You freeze, holding the baby carrier like it's a bomb that's about to go off.

Niko lets out a grunt, then seems to calm down again. You let out a long breath and start putting the baby carrier on her.

"That was close", she mumbles, shifting him around so you can fasten the clasps. "We're geniuses. He'll sleep through the flight."

"Yes, keep telling yourself that." You brush your fingers over his red locks, then glance at Natasha again. "Ready?"

"Ready", she confirms.

At this hour, the airport is almost empty. Though still awake, JFK's evening rush has passed. It's quiet now, slower, with less chaos and more jet-lagged tourists. Outside, the air is sticky and humid from the New York summer heat. Inside, it's almost too cold from the A/C.

You're both somewhat calm. You still have over an hour before your flight departs, and though you're tired from barely sleeping at all, the sleepy atmosphere at the airport makes you feel right at home. What's also reassuring is that you somehow made it there without Niko waking up — but when you walk past a blinking vending machine, his eyes fly open.

"Undo it", Natasha hisses, desperately bouncing him. He lets out a shriek as he stares at the bright lights. "Shit."

"It'll be fine", you say. "Let's just go to check-in before he gets bored."

You hurry up. Halfway to check-in, Niko decides that being carried around isn't enough — being woken up in the middle of the night means entertainment, after all, so his chubby legs start kicking and his arms start flailing. Another screech, then a full blown scream.

When you finally make it to your gate, he's still screaming. You can't tell if it's delight or a temper tantrum, but you're not keen on finding out. Getting him back to sleep is the only thing you're trying to achieve.

"Can't we just sedate him?", Natasha asks right as you're boarding the plane. You've been getting long looks from other passengers ever since he started complaining loudly.

"He's four months old!"

"It's an eight hour flight."

You roll your eyes and squeeze past a family blocking the way. A boy, no older than a first grader, blinks at Niko before covering his ears. In response, your infant lets out something between a scream and a growl.

"Convinced?", Natasha asks, squeezing past the family and hurrying after you. "I have melatonin gummies."

"He doesn't even have teeth", you reply, stopping briefly. You grab her wrist and start dragging her along. "Can you hurry? I want to sit down."

Her mouth opens, then shuts when her eyes dart lower. You're in shorts and a hoodie, thighs bare and ass rounded under the baby blue fabric. Her brain malfunctions, so much so that she's able to ignore Niko's constant fussing, and her hand slackens in your grip. Even while stressed, you're giving her orders. It's sexy even though it shouldn't be.

The seats are somewhat comfortable. The moment you sit down, you take Niko and feed him the bottle you brought. Of course, he falls asleep two minutes into his meal, so you're left behind sweaty and with an almost full bottle of milk.

You give every passenger that walks past a mildly envious look. No crying kids, no sobbing babies, no problems. There are only three other children on board, and those are all either quiet or have been asleep ever since they got to the gate.

Natasha has different things to worry about. She shifts in her seat, looks at the little bathroom in the back, then subtly glances at you again. She's trying to calculate the size of the bathroom in her head.

You give her a look when you notice her staring. Niko's passed out now, so you're only slightly bouncing him in your arms to make sure he's deep asleep.

"What?", you ask her, eyebrows raised. She tilts her head. Her previously tired eyes have lit up a little.

"Want to relieve some tension?"

You frown and stop moving your arm for a moment. "Excuse me?"

Natasha nods at the bathroom in the back. "Y'know. Mile high club."

If you weren't exhausted and annoyed, you'd maybe say yes. Or you'd chew her out. She'd deserve it. But you're running on fumes, so the most you manage to do is slump into your seat and glare.

"You think you deserve to get laid?"

Natasha shrugs before nodding confidently. "I think I did well."

"You forgot the pacifiers", you deadpan. You had to run back upstairs right as the taxi arrived. He made you pay five extra bucks for that.

"I brought melatonin gummies."

"For you, not for him!" You knock your elbow into her side and huff, almost waking Niko again. Thanks to some miracle, he stays asleep. "Loser."

Natasha lets out a grunt, her cheeks flushing. Behind you, an older couple exchanges a look. Even the seniors look more rested than you do.

"You're mean", she mutters, her elbows on the armrests and her eyes staring at the seat in front of her now.

You wait a moment before sighing. "Don't sulk."

"I'm not."

Natasha is sulking. She doesn't stop for a full hour, either. Only when she passes out on your shoulder does she forget about it.

. . .

After an eight hour flight and a time difference of six hours, jet lag has hit two thirds of you like a brick square in the face. Only Niko — still chubby, still screeching, now teething as well — is fully awake and chipper.

The bus ride is the worst of your life, probably. Mainly because you're sleep deprived and sweaty, but also because you're hauling around two suitcases, a backpack that's bursting at the seams and a baby that hasn't slept in four hours.

You're squished together on the seats. Sweat runs down your neck. Niko, mouth sticky with milk, hiccups as he keeps staring at the child across the aisle from you. Unlike him, the toddler is asleep.

"That could be you", you mumble, licking your finger to wipe his chin. You glance at Natasha and frown. "Wake up."

No reaction, just a quiet snore. Her head has lolled against the window of the bus. You spot your bus stop at the next corner, so you pinch her thigh before awkwardly getting up.

"Ow! What are you-"

"Bus stop", you say, already squeezing past a bunch of people to get to the exit. "Grab the suitcases!"

The neighborhood you're in quickly makes you forget about the milk drying on your chest. Cobblestone streets, aged from the sun and uneven. It smells like herbs and fresh laundry. The air is thick with summer heat, the yellow of the buildings is fading and a cat slinks past your ankles.

Natasha eyes a fruit vendor down the street. Niko spots someone on the balcony above you and squeals before yawning.

"Pretty", you finally say, trying to peek into a bakery that's selling bomboloni. "Can we buy something?"

"Let's get the luggage upstairs first", Natasha says, glancing at you. There's a mild sunburn forming on her nose already. "Come on, before my arms give out."

You step into the Airbnb and stop. Natasha almost bumps into you from behind, which you don't notice. Instead, you stare at the space you just entered.

Natasha expects you to complain, for some reason. The apartment is small, lived-in, looks like it was furnished a decade ago by someone's nonna. The couch is worn and deep, the bookshelf messy. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows.

Instead of hearing a complaint, she watches you turn around and kiss her. She freezes for a moment, then sinks into the kiss. You press closer, both of you still sweaty from the bus ride. Your hands cup her face. You barely notice Niko grunting in protest when he's squished between you.

You pull away. An additional flush is covering Natasha's already reddened face.

"You like it?", she asks, dragging the suitcases in after you.

"Are you kidding? You fucked up the flight, but this is perfect." You try to open the door to the balcony, but it sticks. After tugging on it for a second or two, you shoot Natasha a helpless look and she comes running over.

"Glad you like it", she mutters, grunting as she uses her entire body weight to open the door. It finally flies open, letting in the smell of the basil growing in little pots. "Jesus. We'll need to fix the door."

"Bullshit. You're not changing a thing."

You step outside, cradling Niko who's still in the baby carrier, and look at the area surrounding you. Warm terracotta, fresh laundry hanging crisscross on clotheslines between balconies. A grandma is watering a dwarf lemon tree, and her grandson keeps holding his hand under the stream of water coming from the watering can.

You lean against the railing. Natasha, on the other hand, leans against your back. Her hands cup your sides.

"How sneaky can we be?"

"Now?", you deadpan. With so much as a couple words, she managed to ruin the peace you felt. "No."

"I didn't say now", she says defensively. You see her glance at Niko, who's still awake and wide eyed. "Later. When it's dark. It's nice here."

You glance at her over your shoulder. She smirks and presses a quick kiss to your lips, staining her own with the lipgloss you applied earlier. Her thumb slips into the waistband of your shorts. Suddenly, the urge to put the baby to sleep is almost too strong to ignore.

"Later", you cave. Niko grabs your top and yanks on it. "Someone's intervening."

"Told you", she says, stepping aside to let you back into the apartment. "Melatonin gummies. But you don't listen, do you?"

. . .

It takes you a few days to get used to everything. The jet lag hits like a ton of bricks — so much so that you sleep through the first day. Even Niko decides to have mercy, which you're thankful for. He almost sleeps through, only wakes up to nurse once. In your books, that's a win.

The second day seems more promising. With the baby changed and dozing on the couch, cheeks squished, you're able to sit in the kitchen and try the espresso your host left.

The space is tiny. Only two burners and a toaster, as well as a handful of old, mismatched mugs. Natasha sticks her head into the fridge to check for food, but only finds Parmesan and a couple tomatoes next to Niko's pumped milk bottles.

"Are you that warm?", you ask, lazily watching her basically climb into the fridge. She tries to straighten up and hits her head on one of the shelves inside it.

"Shit- no, I'm hungry."

You tilt your head, eyeing her. A sports bra and boxers — nothing special, but she's the one wearing it, so you shift in your seat. Maybe her balcony idea wasn't too bad. Unfortunately, you didn't get to that part as you'd been way too tired to even consider it.

You did consider it, technically. You'd crawled over Niko and plopped down on top of her. All you managed to do was straddle and kiss her, then you both knocked out with your lips still smushed together.

"Hungry for what?", you ask, raising your eyebrows. Natasha glances at you, then a way too cocky smirk forms on her face. "Don't give me that look."

"You started it", she protests. She turns around and rests her hands on the table, arms flexing and muscles bulging. You exhale quietly. "Come on, bella. Uhm...fai l'amore con me."

You groan at the accent and grab one of Niko's onesies to toss it at her. She grins and catches it, then leans over the table to kiss your forehead.

"That was disgusting", you complain. "Don't do that again."

"Be grateful I'm learning Italian for you", she replies, voice a mumble, and kisses your cheek. She only pulls away to step around the table and reach you.

Hands on your sides, under your shirt. Lips parted as she kisses you. Tugging you up, turning around, sitting down with the full intention of letting you ride her. Taking advantage of the silence, too. No crying for once, and no babbling either.

The silence is delicious. Only the fridge, probably two decades old, hums steadily. At 7am, the world outside is quiet and slow. You press against her boner and laugh quietly when she whines into your mouth.

Natasha removes your shirt. The offending piece of fabric ends up in some corner, immediately forgotten about, and her mouth ends up on your chest. If pregnancy made your boobs grow, breastfeeding made them double in size.

She smells body lotion and something sweet. You cup her face, tilt it up, and kiss her lips. The baby monitor lets out a sleepy noise that makes you both pause, though. One hand in her boxers, you look at her.

"The crucial five", she mumbles, making sure to breathe extra quietly.

You smile, but it's halfhearted. It's likely you'll be interrupted now, even if the crucial five — those five seconds during which it's almost guaranteed Niko will wake up — pass. But they do pass, and Niko quiets down again, so you exhale and squeeze gently. Natasha moans.

"Lucky me", she mumbles, latching onto soft skin again. She mouths at your chest and you start to lazily pump your hand, getting her so hard she's all flushed and aching. "Fuck. We need to hurry."

She's right. Niko should wake up soon. He never sleeps long after making sounds in his sleep like that. It makes things bit more stressful, but also adds a bit of a challenge. You get up and get the bottom half of your body naked.

Natasha eyes you greedily. Her hands land on the bottom of your thighs, scooping you up, and you sink right down onto her cock. Slightly out of practice due to your FOMO-baby that loves interrupting you, you nearly jump right up when she stretches you out.

"Hey!", you gasp, nails digging into her shoulders. "Careful there."

"I'm trying my best", she says defensively, but you can tell she doesn't mean it. Any opportunity to prove she's huge is welcome. "You can take it. Just slow down a bit. Get used to it again."

Testing how far you can go, you roll your hips in a deliberate manner. It aches just right, so you sink down further and muffle yourself by biting down on her earlobe. Her eyes widen, breaths stuttering and fingers buried in the skin of your plush thighs.

It's a quick one. She slams your hips down so you meet each thrust, fucking into you until you're babbling and sobbing. The early morning sunlight floods the room and dips you in a golden glow, heating up every inch of your skin.

Skin on skin friction, quiet grunting, the chair creaking and complaining. You grab her hand and press it against your lower belly, and when she feels her own outline, she unloads herself deep in your belly. You come seconds later, thighs wobbly and body sweating.

Slumping into her, your entire body relaxes for the first time in weeks. During the past two days, you've started to regret your decision to come here quite a bit. But now that you're here, sweaty and tangled up in a sweet little kitchen, you couldn't be happier.

Natasha hums and suckles a hickey into your collarbone. Her hands squeeze your ass. "You want more too?"

"Hmm", you mumble, a small smile on your lips. It quickly falters when Niko starts complaining loudly. "Doubt that'll happen, love."

"He's up?", she groans, slumping backwards. "Jesus."

"He slept well last night", you say, getting up from her lap and searching the kitchen floor for your underwear. "Of course he'll wake up earlier. Where did you put my clothes?"

Natasha lifts her head, eyebrows furrowed. Empty-handed, she mimics the little toss she made earlier, aiming directly at the balcony door, and realizes she managed to fling it right at the handle. Now your underwear is dangling there.

"Nice shot", you say drily, spotting the light grey piece of fabric after following her eyes. Finally dressed, you pad into the living room and get Niko from his pillow-enclosed space on the couch.

The rest of your day is just as slow. You take a bus to a smaller town by the sea, find a pizza place for lunch, spill tomato sauce on accident. Natasha's proud she remembered the extra top for you — you're still breastfeeding, and sometimes, when milk leaks, it's more comfortable for you to get changed.

Getting changed in public is a different kind of challenge, though. With no car or apartment to hide in, Natasha finds a public changing room close to the nearby beach and tugs you into it. You end up squeezed into a tight little space, all three of you, with the baby squawking and you sweating in the Italian heat.

Natasha's bouncing Niko, but her eyes are on you. Screw that it's a public space — if it weren't for the baby in her arms, her plans would look totally different.

"Need a hand?", she asks, eyes shamelessly roaming you as you take off your crop top.

"No", you say immediately. Niko glances at you and reaches out one hand, which you pat reassuringly before looking at the top Natasha brought. "Christ, was there anything with less cleavage?"

"It's warm here", she says. "You'll want plenty of air circulation."

"Yes, that's why you packed it. Just say you want my tits out."

"I do", she says bluntly. "They're nice. Niko and I both approve."

You glare at her, which shuts her up real quick. The top is tight and low cut, pushing up your cleavage in a way that has Natasha salivating. She steps closer, hand subtly trying to slide around your chest to cop a feel, but you quickly smack her fingers.

Niko cocks his head as well, giving Natasha a look that finally has her backing down.

"No?", she asks. You don't have to answer. "Alright, got it. Geez. Can't even admire you anymore."

You resist the urge to slap her. Instead, you put the sauce-stained top into a plastic bag, which you then stash in your purse. Once your hands are free, you put Niko on your hip and make your way outside.

He's a breastfed baby. You can't blame him. But right as you're walking down the street towards a gelateria, he grabs the neckline of your top and yanks on it in a way that has you silently thanking your nursing bra.

"Hey, we don't do that", you quickly say and take his hand in yours.

"Nice try", Natasha mutters under her breath. "See? He's on my side."

"You know, I'm not going anywhere with you anymore."

"That's a lie", she says, but secretly gets scared enough to hurry up a little and wrap her arm around your shoulders.

The gelateria is a small, cute family establishment. The chairs are mismatched and in different colors, one wall is covered in pictures drawn by kids and postcards, and the owner immediately starts chatting to Niko in Italian. Your son doesn't understand a word, and neither do you — except for bambino and ciao —, but Natasha glances at you.

"Paffuto", she repeats one of the words the older man said. "That's a funny word."

You smile, and the man finally decides to pay some attention to you as well. He gestures at the gelato in front of him and asks what you want to order.

"Uh, the raspberry", Natasha says. He nods and grabs a scoop. "In a cup, please."

"Pistachio for me", you say. "Do you have whipped cream?"

A few minutes later, you're huddled together in a bit of shade provided by a tree. Niko's sitting between Natasha's legs, leaning against her stomach, and stares up at the cup she keeps eating out of.

You notice her looking at you, and you know why. He's almost six months old, and he's been expressing interest in the food you're eating for weeks now.

"We can't", you say, then hesitantly add: "Can we?"

"It's raspberry", Natasha says, looking at Niko again. "It's not too different from baby food, is it?"

"It has sugar", you say, leaning against the tree trunk. Niko squeaks at the spoon when Natasha scoops up some more ice cream. "Maybe just a tiny bit?"

She basically jumps at the opportunity. It's just a tiny bit of gelato, only enough to let Niko have a taste — but the second the cold treat hits his taste buds, he shivers before squealing. Natasha beams like she just gave him the moon.

"He loves it", she says, smiling, and scoops up more gelato. Niko reaches for the cup, his dimpled little hands greedy for more, and nearly knocks it out of her grasp. "Okay, wait, no."

"Loves it too much", you say, frowning at the scene. Your baby hasn't even had his first solids yet. Though, now he has. "Nat, those are his first solids. His first solids were gelato. Oh fuck."

"It's fine", she dismisses. "It was just a little bit. Right, buddy? That was good, huh? Now remember, I'm the fun one here. If you ever need to pick-"

"Natasha."

"I'm kidding", she says, finishing her gelato. She tosses the cup into a nearby trash can — and makes the shot, obviously —, and scoops Niko up. He stares at her, but she's looking at you.

There's gelato right on the corner of your mouth. She doesn't bother mentioning it. Too big is the risk of you wiping it off yourself. Instead, she leans over and kisses the spot, her tongue briefly darting out. You let out a surprised noise, but don't pull away.

"Was that your tongue? Ew!"

Natasha gives you a pointed look. There's basically no spot on your body her tongue hasn't touched, yet you're making a scene. She gets up, biceps flexing as she pulls you off the ground, and shoots you that same grin that once sparked your interest in her. A spark that never died out.

"Come on." She tugs you closer and you look at her. Cheeks, mildly sunburnt, and green eyes shimmering with something shameless. "Let's get back to the apartment. I have something else in mind."

. . .

During your time in Rome, you almost get arrested twice. Oddly enough, both occasions can be blamed on your decision to go on a walk.

The first time it happens, it's late in the evening. The beach is quiet, peaceful, and you're pushing the stroller around and talking in soft, hushed voices. The air is warm, Niko's cheeks are rosy, Natasha's arm is firm around you. She's holding you like she's scared you'll slip away.

Water splashes against the shore, waves rolling and sea foam glistening. It's warm, and so is she. Your hand, resting on Natasha's side, slides lower. Your thumb hooks into the waistband of her favorite shorts.

The look you exchange says everything. She glances at the water again, her gaze pointed.

"We have no swimming suits", you remind her. She leans in and kisses your cheek. "It's, like, 11 o'clock. We can't take the baby, either."

"He's asleep", she tries to convince you. "We'll keep the stroller right next to the shore. As long as we stay close enough, it'll be fine."

The idea is too tempting. With a sigh, you agree, and Natasha immediately makes a beeline for the water. The stroller stays close to the shore, like she said. Your clothes end up in the little basket beneath it. Bodies bare, you run into the water and squeal when the cold envelops your legs.

"Cold!", she says, cursing, as she joins you. She's less of a coward — instead of taking half a year to wade into the water, she jumps right in. The only issue is that she grabs your wrist and makes you dive in with her.

More coldness, this time hugging your entire body like a tight, icy blanket. You gasp and reach for her, quickly tugging yourself closer to her body. Somehow, she feels warm.

"I thought this was supposed to be romantic!", you hiss, clutching her like a lifeline. She laughs and wraps her arms around you.

"I got you clinging to me all desperately", she teases, gripping the undersides of your thighs to hoist you up. Your legs wrap around her waist and you cup her face. "Can't imagine anything more romantic."

Being held by her like this, your upper body is exposed to both the now colder air and the eyes of anyone wandering the beach late at night. Luckily, you're alone — it's only Niko in your vicinity, snoring and asleep in his stroller.

"I can", you deadpan. Natasha softens, her head tipping forward so her lips can press against your collarbone. You exhale quietly. "It's nice out here."

"It is. Quiet, nobody around..." She brushes her lips against your neck before deliberately sucking a hickey into it. You swallow. "Y'know, we could check this one off our list."

First the positions, now the list of locations. Some public, some as secretive and hidden as it gets. You're not sure how it started, as usual, but you remember both of you sleep deprived and dizzy, climbing each other in an empty movie theater. Nobody can blame you — it'd been date night, one of your firsts since you had Niko, and the mere opportunity was something you couldn't miss.

The list is long now, mainly because Natasha insisted on adding all the locations from before you even started the list as well. You're certain she only wanted to be able to write 'lecture hall, full' down, but you haven't managed to make her admit it.

"Mediterranean sea, Italy", you predict the future entry into your sex log. "Skinny dipping."

"10 out of 10", she adds, letting you slide down her body just enough to make her head push into you. She's hard as a rock and you didn't notice. "Would repeat."

You let out a moan, forehead falling against her shoulder and a shiver running through you. You slide down her body like it's a fireman's pole, her cock slowly burying itself in you until you're full. You rock your hips against her and she curses.

It's a slippery affair. Her fingers dig into your thighs to keep you from slipping down too far, and your hands lock behind her neck. She ruts up into you, water splashing and sloshing, and curses when she steps on a rock.

"I'm bleeding", she gasps, stepping aside and angling her hips just right. All you can do is moan. "Fuck, I'm-"

The moment is cut short by someone blinding you. A flashlight, held in the calloused hand of a police officer, and a face partially concealed by shadows. You can make out a bushy mustache, though, as well as thick eyebrows.

You both react differently — you let out a high pitched scream, and Natasha plops down into the water so you're covered up to your necks.

The man starts barking at you in Italian. Close to tears, you shake Natasha's shoulder until she breaks out of her frozen state and starts rambling.

"No, sorry, we don't speak Italian- no italiano, sir-"

"Out of the water!", he says, his accent thick. "Now! Put the clothes on!"

You scramble out of the water, cursing and cussing and way too naked. The officer tosses a blanket at you, which you use to wrap yourself up, and Niko's crying in his stroller. The light and yelling startled him.

"Bambino", the officer says, mellowed by your son's fussing. "Non sono spaventoso, prometto."

Niko, chubby face teary and fists balled, pouts up at the officer. The man makes a face at him that's supposed to calm him down, but instead of achieving that, your baby only starts sobbing harder.

Unlike Natasha, you don't even bother getting dressed. She's already in her boxers and shirt, while the only thing covering you is the blanket. You scoop Niko into your arms and kiss his cheek.

The police officer side eyes you. Natasha steps in front of him, making him look at her instead. He sighs and lowers the flashlight.

"No swimming at night", he says sternly, pointing at a sign. Below a pictogram of a person swimming, it says 06:00-22:00. Natasha just stares at it, and the officer sighs. "22:00 is ten at night, American. It's too late to swim. Go home. Baby needs sleep."

Through some miracle, he lets you go. No arrest, no fine, nothing — just two soaked idiots, the squelching of wet shoes and a fussy baby.

Back at the apartment, you get Niko settled before hopping into the small bathtub together. Natasha washes your hair, kisses your shoulder, and before you know it, you're making up for the interruption earlier.

You barely managed to save yourself from the Italian police once. The second time, things get even more complicated.

It's a warm day in Rome. You just left one of the markets, where you tried figs and a bunch of cheese Natasha selected randomly; now, you're making your way through the city and toward one of the nearby churches.

"It's pretty", you say, looking at pictures of it. "Not sure what we're supposed to do there, though."

"Look at it?", Natasha suggests, her voice a little strained. She's had a hard morning — literally. She woke up with a boner, got rid of it in the shower (without you), but has been fighting her body's glorious idea to bring it back to life ever since. She blames the dress you're wearing.

"Yeah, definitely didn't think of that, genius." You turn and smile at her, eyes squinted due to the sun shining straight at you, and Natasha swallows. "You better behave in there."

You're blissfully oblivious. Natasha's barely hanging on. The church appears in front of you, and Natasha keeps trying to think of things that turn her off. The only issue is that other scenarios — you, mostly, in positions she's sure aren't appropriate for a place of worship — keep popping up in between.

Or maybe they are. It's not too far off. Natasha's aware that she's trying to justify her lewd thoughts, though, so she bites her tongue and keeps walking.

Inside, it's beautiful. A gilded wooden ceiling, floor mosaics and marble floors, huge columns. Even Niko, formerly half asleep but now wide eyed, is staring at his surroundings.

The place is packed, too. You squeeze past a group of Swiss tourists and walk through one of the stately golden arches. The ceiling above you looks golden, too, but Natasha's barely looked at it at all so far. Instead, she's cursing the fact that she suggested you pack this particular dress.

It's not that tight, but it hugs your body just right. Truthfully, she's not sure whether you're even allowed to walk into a church looking this sinful, and a couple others — an elderly woman especially — seem to agree. The look you get from her is enough for Natasha to jump forward and block the woman's view.

"Old shrew", she mutters. Niko spits out his pacifier as he hiccups. "You like it?"

"It's so pretty", you mumble, still in awe. Behind you, Natasha's trying her hardest to conceal her bottom half with the diaper bag hanging from the handle of the stroller. You only notice when you turn to glance at Niko, who's babbling. "What's with your face?"

Natasha's head snaps up. "Huh?"

"It's weird", you say. "Is it your stomach? I heard figs can-"

"No", she quickly interrupts you. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

You will worry about her, and it won't take long, either. You're walking side by side. Then, at some point, you're just a step or two in front of her again. Natasha's eyes dart down again, running along the curves of your body and the length of your legs, and her face blooms with color.

Noticing she's fallen behind, you stop and wait for her. The second she's next to you again, you reach for her hand and she almost explodes.

It's an innocent touch, no question. But your palm is all hot and sweaty from the heat, and for some reason, that's exactly the kind of turn-on Natasha does not need in that moment.

The back of your neck is moist, too. You stop for a second to tie your hair up — it really is hot in here — and Natasha feels like she's about to die on the spot.

"You're killing me", she hisses quietly. Surprised, you turn around to face her.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm this close to having to go into confessional", she mutters, her grip on the stroller's handle tightening. You give her a confused look. "Just keep walking."

"What-" You stop abruptly, just long enough to get a glimpse of what she means. You exhale to stop yourself from laughing. "Oh. You can't be helped, can you?"

Natasha narrows her eyes and stops in her tracks. Niko, enjoying being pushed around, lets out an offended grunt. Neither of you notice that, though, as your focus has shifted elsewhere.

"It's not funny. You're going to get me kicked out."

"Me?" You roll your eyes and keep walking, your hand grabbing hers again. Cheeks aflame, she curses quietly. "This is on you, horndog. Can't even keep it in your pants for a few hours."

"Can we leave?", she pleads. You've made it into the far inside of the church. There are multiple groups of people around you — mostly tourists, as well as a few people that are sitting in the rows and praying silently. Nobody's paying attention to her, but she feels like they are.

You sigh. You've made it through most of the church anyway, seen enough of it to call it a day, too. Niko's grumpy and hungry, Natasha looks like she's about to go up into flames. You're the only one holding your dumb little family together, so you nod at the exit and turn back around.

Outside, it's sweltering. Natasha's still sweating. She puts on her sunglasses and exhales quietly when you point out a shop that sells bracelets and postcards and little souvenirs. Before she can even think about recovering from whatever happened in the church just minutes ago, you're dragging her into the small shop.

With the stroller, there's barely space to move. Niko's right next to a rotating display with name bracelets hanging from it. They're bright, colorful, dangling slightly due to Natasha brushing against them while walking. His five month old brain immediately becomes fixated on them, and before she can stop him, he's grabbed a fistful of bracelets.

"Shit", Natasha curses. She quickly leans in to try and peel his fingers off the jewelry. "No, let go. None of those have your name on them. You're too young. How are you this strong, Jesus Christ-"

You glance at them and frown. "Hey, don't let him touch that."

"I'm trying my best", she mutters. Niko screams when she finally loosens his fist. "Okay, fine. Yell at me all you want."

"Is there one that says 'Niko'?"

Natasha gives you a hectic look. She's unbuckled the baby and scooped him up to try to get him calmed down. She glances at the different bracelets.

"Uh...Nicholas...Nicolò...no. Sorry."

You pout briefly, but turn back around to look at notebooks in different designs. Natasha's trying her best to juggle a squirmy baby and her own frazzled nerves. In need of a break, you said when suggesting this trip. This doesn't seem like a break — it seems like a surefire way to lose it completely.

When Niko's bored, he'll do anything to change that. The minute Natasha feels like she can breathe again (and stare at you as you try on rings and twist them idly), the mini-shoplifter in her arms lunges and gets his hands on his next target. A stack of fridge magnets, falling to the floor and making the owner of the shop alert.

In the end, you buy two of the magnets and a few pieces of jewelry. Niko nods off the second you're back outside.

More gelato. Another stop, this time at a little stand that sells delicacies like fresh prosciutto and olive oil. You buy some lemonade for Natasha, who looks like she's about to pass out, and she downs it all in one go.

Walking back down the street, you count the coins in your palm. Natasha eyes you — sunburns on your cheeks, hair curling at the ends, lipstick freshly applied. She lets out a soft breath when you drop a coin, but when you bend over, she falters.

During the past few hours, she's cursed that dress way too many times. But now that you're bent over, it's ridden up and exposed more of your thighs. The image of them around her head last night pops up in her head.

A quick glance at the stroller. The baby's asleep. You're clueless. Before you know what's going on, she's got her hand around yours as she tugs you into an alleyway.

Your back against the wall, you stare at her. There's not much thinking involved — the baby is safe and sound, stroller covered with a burp cloth, you're partially hidden by shadows and a trash can, and Natasha's only thinking with her dick at this point. It's been hours, after all, and she's not known for her self-restraint.

You glance at the street. Even from here, you can see people walking down the street. "Really?"

"I'll be so quick", she immediately swears, grabbing one of your thighs and hoisting it up around her side. "Nobody will notice."

It sounds impossible because it is. In that moment, you're not being rational either, though. You just tilt your head at her, trying to bite back a grin, and she takes that as a yes.

Her tongue tastes like lemonade when she kisses you. Her hands are frantic, grabbing and squeezing at soft flesh, and her boner presses right against you. You're out of breath quickly, giggling quietly when she tugs down her shorts just enough to free herself. You bunch up your dress around your waist and tug her closer.

She doesn't bother pulling down your underwear. Instead, she nudges the fabric aside before guiding herself in. Once buried deep inside you, she moans and lets her face drop against your neck.

Sex in a public alleyway is anything but romantic. It's hurried, messy, with the cold brick wall against your butt and Natasha stifling moans as to not let the residents of the buildings around you hear. Thighs sticky, kisses so uncoordinated you keep missing each other's lips, Natasha slipping and nearly thrusting against your leg.

It's a myth that breastfeeding women are unable to get pregnant, but it's a myth you still believe in, and in that moment, you're glad you do. She's hitting it raw, the tip nudging that sweet spot just right, and the lack of unnecessary fumbling for a condom definitely makes the situation a little better.

"I'm gonna cum in you", she mumbles against your neck, still fucking into you pathetically. "I'm close."

You let out a breathless laugh. "Good thing I can't get pregnant right now."

Natasha whimpers, her thumb rubbing your hip. Your back arches, tingles travel from your head to your toes and back — and suddenly, right as the orgasm is about to hit, yet another flashlight brightens up the alleyway.

Dick still inside you, Natasha freezes. Your thighs are wet. Your mouths are smudged with lipstick. A cop is staring at you, silent and in disbelief. Before you can react, he starts cussing at you to cover up. You quickly tug down your dress right as she pulls out and fumbles with her shorts.

"Dang tourists", he barks. "You don't have a hotel room or what? This is a public space! Atti osceni in luogo pubblico, ever heard of that?"

Natasha, ears crimson, scratches her neck. You try apologizing in bad Italian — "sorry, uh, scusa, we just...I'm sorry" — but the police office doesn't want to hear any of it. It's not even noon, he has about eight hours of his shift left, and he just saw something he'd rather delete from his memory.

"Public space!", he repeats, pulling out a pad. Natasha's eyes widen, and you smooth out your dress and try not to laugh. "Names and ID. Now. You're getting a fine. Dio mi, con un bambino qui...vergogna!"

"What?", she asks dumbly.

"Names and ID!", he repeats, scowling. She finally hands him her passport, and then just stands there as the cop writes her name on a ticket. Public indecency — that's the official charge. "100 euros. You have 30 days to pay, go to a post office and do it there. Here's the address. Don't do this again, hear me?"

"Of course", Natasha mumbles, voice slightly higher than usual. She accepts the fine notice and nods awkwardly when he gives you a dismissive wave. "Thank you, bye."

"Bye", he mutters. Walking away, you hear him curse under his breath.

The moment he's gone, you turn to Natasha and grin. She averts her eyes, guilty and more embarrassed than she thought she'd be. Despite the little incident on the beach a few days ago, she didn't think you'd get caught this time.

"Nobody will notice", you mock. Niko, previously napping in his stroller, lets out a wail. He's hungry. "Great plan, Romanoff."

"Oh, shush", she mutters, running her hand through her hair. You lift the burp cloth that was covering the stroller and unbuckle Niko to grab him. "We gotta go home."

You slide the strap of your dress off your shoulder and let Niko latch on. Natasha glances at you — completely accidentally, she swears — and then suddenly whips around to grab the stroller.

You didn't get arrested. You got way too close twice, though.

. . .

Nothing seems to be going according to plan.

The stroller won’t open. When it finally budges, Niko gets so offended at the idea of not being carried anymore that he starts screaming. Natasha, sweaty at 8am, blinks before caving and picking him back up. He doesn’t like that, either, so she promptly turns around and puts him in your arms.

"Seriously?"

"He loves you more", she deadpans, grabbing the bag full of beach supplies you packed. "Come on, we gotta be there before the sun gets too strong."

Going to the beach this early in the morning was your idea. Natasha didn’t love the thought of getting up at 6am just to go splash around in the water with strangers watching her, but you want Niko to dip his feet in at least once before you leave.

You get a taxi this time. The first one doesn’t show up, the second leaves you waiting for way longer than you’d planned. Once finally dropped off at a shop close to the beach, you grab the stroller and walk the last few feet. Niko’s calmed down now — he’s sitting in the comfort of his stroller’s sun shade, a little plastic rake in his hands. Natasha’s trodding along next to you, carrying both a cooler and a pop up beach tent.

Despite your genius idea to get there early, the beach is slowly getting crowded already. Natasha sprints to the last spot left in the shade, just barely claiming the spot before an elderly couple can. Neither look too happy, but when she starts waving at them to move along, they do.

You join her. The stroller struggles with being pushed on the sand. “Did you just start a fight?”

"I saved our asses", she says, opening the pop up tent and nearly hitting herself in the face. "Crap."

"Ever the graceful one."

She glares, but Niko’s full on belly laughing, so she can’t keep the scowl on for too long. "Got the sunscreen?", she asks.

You hold up the sunscreen bottle and she hums. What follows is a battle — first with Natasha, who didn’t think she’d be included when you reminded her of the importance of sunscreen, and then with Niko. Both are dramatic in their own way, but at least Niko has an excuse.

"He’s a baby", you say, kneeling behind Natasha and spreading the sunscreen over her shoulders. "What’s wrong with you?"

She flinches at your cold, wet palms sliding over her back. "It's sticky, Y/N. It feels gross."

"Trust me, your skin peeling because of a sunburn feels worse. Now help me with Niko."

After fighting a squirmy baby for a good ten minutes, you've finally made it. Natasha goes to pick him up, but he's so slippery he just slips right out of her hands again. He huffs, she snorts, and you stand to the side with the baby floatie in your hands.

She does manage to pick him up eventually. You walk over warm sand and approach the water, where a few people are swimming already. One foot sinking into the water, you realize it's at least somewhat warmer than it was a couple nights ago.

"It's fine", you say. Natasha hesitates, then steps in after you. "You think he'll like it?"

"One way to find out", she mumbles, slowly walking in deeper.

First, the water touches Niko's toes — he lifts his feet and looks down, puzzled by the sudden sensation. Then, it fully envelopes his legs. His head whips around and he stares at you. When the water brushes his stomach, he lets out a sudden cry.

Natasha quickly holds him up so the water isn't touching him anymore. You sigh and wade closer.

"Okay, Simba. Come here."

You try again and gently lower him into the water. There's a moment of silence and contemplation, during which he just watches the water lap at him — but it's followed by a 'nope', and this time, it includes tears and pouting.

"Dammit", you curse. Natasha frowns. "Take turns?"

"Seriously?", she complains. She's been looking forward to seeing you in a bikini again all day. Now that you're finally close to her, smooth skin and soft curves exposed, you're about to be forced back into the pop up tent. "I'll go with you."

"No", you say, cradling him. "Stay here, enjoy the water. I’ll go after you."

Natasha wants to stop you, but doesn’t. Instead, she watches you leave, more of your body being revealed inch by inch as you make your way back to the shore. Wet skin glistens in the early morning sun, and she bites her tongue and sinks deeper into the water to adjust her swim shorts.

You’re back in the tent, where you lay Niko down on a towel and dry his feet with it. He kicks and smiles, much happier now, but you’re back to being stuck on the shore, so you’re less enthusiastic. You kiss his cheek and hand him a toy so he can entertain himself, but your focus wavers.

You look back at Natasha, who’s swimming now. Biceps flex when she pulls her arms to her chest, then sweeps them out and forward again. Her hair is soaked at the ends, strands sticking to her temples, and her face is focused.

You roll your eyes and plop down onto your back. Niko, grabbing his rubber duck with one hand and his foot with the other, rolls onto his side and squeaks. You glance at him and smile.

"You’re lucky you’re cute", you mumble. He reaches for your hand when you tickle his chin. "You see what I’m giving up for you?"

Natasha emerges from the water ten minutes later. You’re propped up on your forearms by now, Niko sleepy and yawning. When you see her walk out of the water, it’s like a thirst trap created just for you. Her abs are on full display, water dripping everywhere, hair slicked back.

You eye her shamelessly. You’re not the only one, though, which you realize when you hear two women on the towels next to your tent whispering and giggling. They’re speaking in Italian, so you don’t understand a word, but it’s pretty obvious what they’re talking about. One glance at them shows that they’re staring as hard as you are.

The jealousy hits you like a truck. You jump up from the towel without thinking and immediately make your way over to her. Natasha’s confused at first, but when you wrap a towel around her shoulders to tug her closer, it slowly clicks. You’re not even trying to hide it — you smooth your hands down her chest, kiss her jaw, step close enough so there’s not a breath of air between you.

You’re on a public beach, and you’re staking your claim on her like she’s some kind of prize. It’s not like she minds, though. In fact, she goes from confused and just-happy-to-be-here to fully cocky within seconds.

"What’s this?", she teases, wrapping her arms around you. "My girl’s worried?"

You roll your eyes and get on your tiptoes to peck her lips. "Just making sure."

"Making sure that…?"

You tilt your head and press your thumb against her bottom lip. Like a switch flipped, her brain empties itself out and she falters immediately.

"Nothing important, baby. You hungry? I’ll make you breakfast."

Back in the tent, you throw together sloppy sandwiches using ingredients you bought at a small store nearby. It starts as sandwiches — but when you're done, it quickly devolves into a lazy make out session.

Natasha puts her paper plate aside to tug you closer. Your lipstick is smudged, there are crumbs on your thighs, but she can't say she cares. Her hair is still wet, dripping on you when she tucks you against her chest. Her lips press against yours, and once you're too out of breath to think straight, she lowers her head to mouth at your neck instead.

You only stop when Niko wakes up from his nap. Natasha squeezes your hip before getting up to scoop the baby into her arms. Most of your beach trip didn't go according to plan, but at least one thing did.

. . .

"It won't work", Natasha tells you. She's in socks and slippers, only wearing boxers and an undershirt. Niko's in her arms, facing you, chewing on his hand and beaming whenever you look at him. "He's not stupid. He saw you with me."

"You're just scared", you reply. You're in front of the mirror, applying perfume. The shirt you threw on is oversized, reaching the middle of your thighs and basically serving as a dress. "Men are so easy. I'll wink twice and it'll be done. No big deal."

Scared — unfortunately, that hits the nail on the head. Your plan is to flirt with the guy living in the apartment across from yours. As it turns out, he's friends with the guy who owns the little artisanal shop down the street. There's been a big sign in the front ever since you arrived ('Limoncello Artigianale, Vincitore del Premio 2015'), and it sparked your interest the moment you translated it.

The store happens to be out of limoncello at the moment, but Natasha casually mentioned how most shop owners will keep a couple bottles for family and friends. Now, your mission is to get a bottle by charming up the man across the street.

All of that for a bottle of limoncello. Of course, you can't drink the liquor now. You're breastfeeding. But you'd love to take a bottle back home and try it once you can.

"It's just limoncello", Natasha says, bouncing the baby. "We can find it in the States. I mean, New York is basically Italy."

"Say that to a local and you'll get shot", you say, slowly putting lipstick on. Behind you, Natasha almost short-circuits. "Come on, it'll be fun. I need to see whether I'm out of practice. You've always been easy, maybe he'll be a challenge."

"Gross."

You pause, looking at her through the mirror. She tightens her jaw in an attempt to seem unbothered, but Niko hiccuping and spitting up a little ruins it. Kicking his feet, he smiles widely.

"If you're not comfortable, I won't do it", you say, putting the cap of the lipstick back on. "I'm sure we can find it somewhere else, too."

She grumbles, shifting Niko in her arms. "It won't be vincitore."

"No", you agree. "It won't be artisanal either, I'm guessing. Think this is worth it?"

Natasha hesitates, briefly glancing at the door leading out to the balcony. You know what she's thinking, even if she refuses to say it — she'll watch and make sure the guy doesn't step over any lines. Knowing her, she'll probably keep a bottle of water close to pour over his head if he does.

"You deserve the stupid limoncello", she mutters. "Least you should get for the shit you've gone through. I saw your nipples, like, bleed once."

You grimace. Niko'd been about two weeks old and cluster feeding, which meant no breaks for you. The sudden bleeding — something you'd been unfamiliar with at the time — scared you both so much that Natasha took you to the hospital at 2am.

"Don't remind me", you say, turning around to face her. Now, Niko is truly thrilled. He starts bouncing and kicking his feet, his smiles extra bright. You smile back and cup his face to kiss his forehead. "Don't get me pregnant again, either. I'm done here."

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't argue. It's not like she's jumping at the opportunity to knock you up again, either. Not when your firstborn can't even crawl yet.

"Fine", she says. "You still want that limoncello?"

"Yeah, I do." You grab your perfume and spritz some on your wrists, then rub it on your neck. "Wish me luck."

The moment the door to the apartment has closed, Natasha hurries to the balcony. She steps out into the warmth of the morning, still cradling Niko, and watches you as you walk across the street.

Your neighbor is in his kitchen, with the window open and a smell of braised beef wafting from it. When you step closer, he pauses. The wooden spoon in his hand is dripping with sauce as he leans out the window.

Natasha can barely make out your conversation. Niko babbling and making noises doesn't help in any way, either. She exhales and steps a bit closer to the railing.

"...really does smell wonderful. I'll need a recipe, I'm not nearly as good at cooking as you are."

"It's easy", he says, smiling at you. "I'll write down the recipe. Is important you cook for two hours or more."

You hum, playing dumb, and wrap a strand of your hair around your finger. Natasha scowls — that same trick has worked wonders on her way too many times.

"Two hours or more? My, that's a lot." You tilt your head and smile, batting your eyelashes. His smile widens. "You must be great at cooking."

He tries to wave it off, but seconds later, Natasha watches him hold the wooden spoon out of the window again — this time, there's braised beef on it for you to try. At least you visibly hesitate before getting on your tiptoes and trying it. She rolls her eyes, her fingers twitching against Niko's back. He squeals down at you.

You keep going for five more minutes before finally getting to the point. Thank god — Natasha was close to storming downstairs and tugging the guy out of the window by his neck.

"By the way, you don't maybe know whether the owner of that little shop over there still has limoncello? It's supposed to be the best, and I really wanted to take some home for my friends. I know it's a bit out of the blue, but-"

"Limoncello?", he repeats. He turns around and, when he appears again, shows you a bottle of it. "This one? You could've asked first thing! I have too many bottles. Pazzo, he is."

You stare at him. Upstairs on the balcony, Natasha drops the bottle of milk she was about to feed Niko. It was all for nothing — you charmed an Italian guy, and it turned out to be unnecessary. Forcing a smile, you grab the limoncello and thank him.

To stop Natasha from sulking too much, you make your way into the apartment and immediately suggest a lunch date. It's the least you can do to distract her from the fact you probably made your neighbor develop a mini crush on you.

Again, you have pizza. Also again, you spill sauce — this time on Niko, who's in your lap, and then make him cry by daring to nurse him under a blanket. Later, when you're about to make your way back to the apartment to pack for your flight the next day, the stroller won't unfold. You feel phantom stares and start sobbing. Natasha, sweaty and stressed, tries her best to fix the situation.

"Told you", she says, accidentally slamming the stroller against the pavement, "should've stuck with DoorDash."

Somehow, it works. You start giggling through the tears, so much so that even Niko gives you a slightly puzzled look. Eventually, you do make it back to the apartment. At night, you spend your last few hours in Italy on the balcony, a bottle of nonalcoholic wine between you.

The baby is finally asleep. You're wearing the infamous little dress again. Natasha leans over the table to kiss you, hands braced on the flat surface of the plastic table. Down the road, you hear kids yell as they play soccer.

"We'll have to come back", she mumbles after pulling away. "Someday. When Niko's old enough to actually swim."

"He hated it", you add. You managed to go swimming with the baby twice — he screamed his head off both times, cutting your time in the water short and making you take turns with swimming. "Poor thing."

"Poor thing indeed", she agrees. Then, her lips tug into a small smile. "But I loved it. That bikini you were wearing..."

"Stop", you quickly say, smiling as well. "We don't have time. We still need to pack, you didn't even fold all your clothes yet."

"We have time", she insists. Grabbing your hand, she tugs you up from the chair. Her hands end up on your waist. Your chest flush with hers, she leans in to kiss your nose. "I got my priorities straight, babe."

You give her a pointed look, but she ignores it. Instead, she fully wraps her arms around you and leans in. She kisses you again, and this time it's more like a flurry of kisses, affection so overwhelming it melts your resolve to start packing.

You stay on the balcony, kissing like teenagers and giggling like the nonalcoholic wine you had actually got you tipsy.

You don't make it back into the apartment before 3am. Sleepy and smiley, you pack suitcases. You pass out in your clothes, body halfway thrown over Natasha's.

The next morning, you almost miss your flight — and she still insists that it was worth it.

[wandaparadise]

The Roommate — Kisses like stars

Summary: After the longest week of her life, Natasha can only hope you would say yes to the date. But your mind isn’t always so kind to others, let alone to yourself. What if you fell and Natasha didn’t catch you? Or worse, what if she did?

Pairing: g!p! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

Warnings(+18): mentions of anxiety, implied eating disorders, goofy! Natasha Romanoff, slight D/s dynamic, blowjob, cum swallowing, marking kink, deep throating, possessive sex (if you squint), worshipping, fluff

you don’t have permission to translate/repost my work anywhere. Please be respectful. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated. MDNI — Regina.

A/N: I will only say… does anyone know where to find someone like this Natasha? I created her and now I’m in love with her too. Who wouldn’t be? Also BAD BUNNY FOR THE WIN. But…

CHAPTER MOOD: Break My Heart — Dua Lipa

Official series playlist

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Natasha was about to die.

There was no other way to explain how painful the detox was on her and you weren’t making things any easier.

No, you actually made them worse.

The first three days after that Thursday, Natasha was very confident she would be more than fine. But she failed to notice what made it so easy.

On Friday, she was more than satisfied because you two fucked like actual bunnies and you said it would be the last time for a week but never specified time and she made it eked.

The redhead also walked around campus with an arrogant smile because you ended up stealing one of her hoodies and used cargo pants to hide the bruises. A side of her wanted you to show them proudly, but everyone knew that was her hoodie and a win was a win.

Girls wise, Natasha found out it was harder than she thought and that same day she almost started wearing a sign that said ‘Don’t talk to me. I’m taken’ — the only reason she didn’t do it was because Clint made fun of her and her ego got the best of her.

But the first day she survived and her reward was a chaste kiss. A kiss that made her pout because it wasn’t as steamy as the other ones and you only told her ‘You will thank me later’ and she didn’t understand why.

During the weekend, things were also easy because all she had to do was stay in. Except for the morning runs and that was the hardest part because you wore your workout clothes since Natasha’s shorts and tees were not an option.

However, when Monday arrived and some bruises were gone, you rose hell.

Natasha thought things would be easy but you made sure she suffered every minute of the day. If she really thought about it, the most merciful thing you did for her was kicking her out of your room at nights.

And she even whined about it.

You wore skirts every day and Natasha swore they were getting shorter. Your beautiful long legs on display with some bruises that now you wore proudly.

Your blouses got replaced by only crop tops that were too tight to wear a bra underneath.

And you wore down your hair until Spanish class came, there you pulled your hair up in a ponytail and just because your top would slightly lift making Natasha lose focus for a second. And then she would move to hold it down, growling when anyone dared to look — even more so if your nipples were hardened.

Not only did you look delicious and Natasha felt like her dick was about to explode, everyone else also noticed how hot you looked and Natasha couldn’t claim you because you also cut off the public demonstrations.

So she started walking around campus with blue balls, irritated and extremely jealous.

On top of that, it was as if girls knew she wasn’t getting any because they doubled their efforts to throw themselves to her. And the universe hated her because somehow it always happened when you were around and the redhead always whined. Not because she wanted to do something with them.

No, it was because you walked away every single time and she couldn’t kiss it better.

You weren’t even mad; you paid maybe one or two of those girls to make her suffer. The only reason you walked away was because you usually were about to start laughing but also found it extremely sweet how hard she was trying. So if you didn’t walk away, you would’ve ended up kissing her.

And Natasha came up with the easy way to get away from women; she almost felt stupid for not thinking about it in the first place. But she sat and thought what turned her off when she was flirting and the answer was simple: girls’ partners.

Natasha hated cheating, she would never participate in those type of things. As soon as a girl mentioned her partner as a heads up, Natasha walked away.

She would only cheat if it was role-play and it was with you.

So the redhead started bringing you up around girls, not because you were a turn off. But girls got pissed off when every attempt of flirting, Natasha turned it about you.

“I know this pizza place close to my apartment” a girl said, playing with her hair and Natasha wore a poker face. No grinning, no eyes twinkling, nothing. But they never took the hint “I believe you would love it, specially after a very long workout session”

“Really?” Natasha sounded excited and the girl smirked “Give me the name. My princess and I will try it, we workout a lot”

“Princess?”

“Yeah. (Y/N)? Basically my girlfriend” the girl started to walk away and Natasha only added shouting “Is it a good place for a date?”

Or that one time a girl talked about her abs and dared to touch her. That day Natasha was explicit enough when she said:

‘Yeah? Thank you, my girlfriend loves to ride them’

The redhead started to be a complete asshole with every girl that came to her. Her charming self was replaced by a very douchey version of herself that she had to create as a shield. And she started noticing how freaking boring the girls were.

Natasha wasn’t a hater — no one was stupid only uneducated. But they were testing her, she could swore on that.

The more she forced herself to pay attention to catch the perfect moment to mention you, the more she realised those girls were boring and bordering stupidity.

Was she always like that? Did women think she was also stupid when flirting? Did you?

But it also served as the biggest turn off in the world. Natasha came to realise that what she liked about you the most wasn’t how you looked, it was your brain.

Her mind always did the comparison. They never were as beautiful, hot and smart like you. She even started to point it out subtly.

A girl with a higher pitch voice? Natasha’s mind would play your voice to soothe her and her mouth would say ‘Do you always sound like that?’

A girl would smell too sweet or too citric and Natasha would scrunch her nose and say ‘What perfume do you use?’ and they would always fall for it so the next sentence got her slapped way too many times ‘Change it. It’s awful’.

Anything that didn’t have to do with you, Natasha made it a problem. Any girl that tried, got turned down without a second thought. You turned out to be the best weapon or maybe their curse. And the word spread fast enough.

Natasha Romanoff was officially a complete asshole.

Yes, she was still hot and a memory in those that were lucky to arrive before you did. But an asshole, nevertheless. And she wore the title proudly because soon it would turn into a complete but taken asshole.

So it didn’t matter all the pain she was going through, her goal was clear and she was almost there.

Although, that didn’t stop her from whining.

(—)

Friday arrived and Natasha was a nervous wreck because what didn’t arrive was your response.

The thing was, you had your fun watching her squirm with every girl that got close, with every kiss you stole from her, with every time you left her high and dry. But it lasted until your anxiety took over because Natasha was flawless.

The redhead didn’t push more even when she was hard as a rock, she only whimpered and whined to end up masturbating in her bedroom.

You heard other girls talking about her and instead of being fawning over her, they just called her an asshole but praised you for ‘taming the untameable’. The golden girl proved to everyone not only was she out of reach, but had the cure for people like Natasha.

And even when that made your heart flutter, thinking Natasha was really proving how much she wanted you, some part of you voiced out what everyone else also thought: you probably were too good in bed if the redhead was trying that hard.

It’s not like you thought you were bad in bed — the things that happened in bed with Natasha were more than just your doing and they were amazing. But it was the weight behind the words.

What if Natasha was just doing it for the lack of sex? What if she was trying to prove something?

In the beginning, you knew Natasha wanted to prove she could have you because no one had ever resisted to her charm. That you were another girl she could just have and drop whenever she pleased.

Although, things changed and you knew the redhead had showed you parts of herself no one else had ever seen, the irrational thoughts kept coming and the only person that could make things better was the same one you had been avoiding the entire morning.

Natasha asked during your morning run and you said ‘I don’t know yet’. She asked again when you arrived to campus and you excused yourself for class. The redhead followed you between classes and the only thing she got was ‘I think we need to talk. Lunch?’

Natasha was destroyed at the sound of that.

The redhead thought she did something wrong. You were gathering the courage to finally speak up your feelings. Two women doing things they never imagined doing for someone.

But you needed to know.

You needed Natasha to muffle your thoughts, to prove one last time that you were wrong and she really wanted to you because even when you had fun watching her suffer, you felt the way you fell in love with her even more.

You missed her touch, her kisses, the security her hands offered and her scent that always calmed you when you were studying in your free periods.

Natasha was there but really wasn’t and what started as a punishment for her and your own entertainment, ended up being your punishment too. Apparently, being left alone with yourself now was enough room for insecurities to raise.

You hated it with all your heart. Insecurities also came with the fear of losing and that’s when you realised how wrapped around Natasha’s finger you were.

At this point, all your thoughts about refusing being in a relationship just to avoid a whiny partner turned out to be you being the whiny partner. You were afraid of caring so much about her that if she failed you, you wouldn’t survive the fall.

Still, you managed to walk across the garden with a steady pace. Always compose and a serene face, as if your head wasn’t screaming to retrieve and your heart wasn’t hammering about to explode inside of you.

Natasha wasn’t doing any better; the redhead had already ran all her week’s doings trying to find a mistake and as to why you were about to crush her hopes and dreams. Unlike you, she really seemed in distress because the more she thought about it, the less she found and the more her ears rang.

The redhead couldn’t lose you, because all week she work hard and realised you were what she really wanted. Even the sex, that was once her only intention with women, came second place.

She missed sleeping with you and have you wrapped around her arms. She missed the stole kisses between workouts. She missed your scolding when she tried to sneak her hand under your skirt in public. She missed you.

You also were there, but not really.

You found her sitting in your usual table, the one that was big enough to now hold your small group of friends since now also your worlds started merging. And Natasha looked like the personification of your anxiety.

The redhead was tapping her book as she tried to read, her leg was bouncing and she was biting her lip.

But even then, Natasha bought you your iced tea and for once didn’t assume she would be able to steal so she bought herself one. And she bought you your salad with grilled chicken, strawberries and goat cheese that you never finished and she always ended up eating for you — Natasha hated goat cheese.

You took one last breath before walking close to her. No teasing, no snarky comments, nothing until you laid all your feelings down in hopes Natasha eased your mind. After that, you would tell her about your little surprise.

Despite the anxiety, you still knew that the answer was yes. So you cancelled the rest of your day to spend it with her while you prepared for whatever she had planned.

“Romanoff” you greeted, trying to sound calm and sweet but Natasha felt it like a punch in the throat because lately you’ve been calling her Nat.

“Princess, hey” she forced herself to say and slid over the stone bench for you to sit next to her. You bit your lip and tilted your head “What’s wrong?”

“Do you mind if you turn a little to the side?” you asked and Natasha furrowed her brows.

You bent and grabbed her thigh and pulled it out of the bench so she was facing you and then you sat in front of her with your legs open as well and knees touching the other one.

“Your thighs are showing” Natasha breathed out, trying not to look down because she really was only human and your body had that effect on her.

“It’s that or sitting across from you on the other side of the table” you said softly. It wasn’t a reprimand, it was an actual explanation and for once you didn’t sound like you were toying with her.

“At least, let me…” she turned around and grabbed her jacket and placed it over your lap making sure your sides were covered “Better, we don’t want prying eyes” you nodded and smiled softly “Will you tell me now what I did wrong?”

Natasha scratched the back of her neck nervously, her hands were clammy and her eyes were clouded with fear. And you felt bad, really bad for putting her through this.

“Nothing” you admitted and she bit her lip “You didn’t do anything wrong and maybe that’s the problem”

“What?” she chuckled nervously “Are you toying with me? Because it’s not funny”

The redhead was trying to read your features but you looked unreadable. On the inside, the words were fighting to come out despite your instincts telling you that self-preservation should come first. A conflict between what your fears were telling you and what your heart wanted.

“I’m not, Natasha” your cheeks flushed and you looked down as your fingers played with the hem of your skirt “I just-“ you inhaled sharply and Natasha fought the need to grab your hand “I just need to know one thing”

“What is it? Did anyone tell you we fucked or something? Because it’s a lie” she was trying so hard to understand what was happening and nothing was making sense to her.

“No” you chuckled softly and looked up, you caressed her cheek trying to ease her and the redhead leaned into your touch “But I need to know… will it always be like this?” you finally said, your own mind tangled with fear and hope.

“What do you mean? Like what?” confusion replaced her fear as she watched you carefully.

“Will I always have to hold sex over your head for you to behave?” you mumbled and Natasha almost didn’t catch it “Will I have to always ask to be seen or be the only one you think about? Did you do it just to prove you could have me?”

Then, Natasha saw it.

She finally managed to read you. Your eyes clouded with fear, sorrow and a lot of doubt. The way you started to pick on your cuticles or how you were trying to stay focus on her. She almost saw the way your body was trembling as you fought your own body to stay in place instead of running.

Her mind took her to that night at the beach, the way you tried to diminish your words when you said:

‘I heard once no one would like the real me, so why trying? Besides, I’m too busy for that’

The way your mother told you beauty didn’t last. All the time you took in the mornings ‘I always want to look pretty’, as if that was the only thing about you that mattered. How upset you were when finding out Steve had a crush on you because he only wanted you for your body and not for who you were as a friend.

Your mother made you believe you weren’t worth really loving and everyone around you tried to date you to take you to bed. Natasha was once one of those people and it wasn’t a surprise now you were scared of her goal being different.

You needed to believe she wanted you for you and not your body.

Her hands moved to grab your hips and you gasped when she carried you with ease and placed you over her lap. And before replying, the redhead hugged you tightly.

Your body was tense at first but she gave you the space to ease slowly, her arms wrapped around you and her face hidden in the crook of your neck. And when your body finally gave in and you wrapped your arms around her neck, you both felt like you could finally breathe.

Natasha pulled back a little and pressed her forehead against yours. Her thoughts settling down as she realised the punishment wasn’t only about her suffering as a payback but trying to see how bad she wanted you.

And the redhead wanted you so bad in every way that it hurt.

“I know I’m an idiot” Natasha started softly, moving away from your face and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear “I know that the reputation I built for myself speaks volumes, it’s louder than the truth” she continued as calloused fingers caressed your cheeks tenderly “But I didn’t do it for the sex, princess. Don’t get me wrong, I love fucking you” you bit your lip and Natasha’s thumb brushed your lower lip “but I did it because I really, really want to date you”

“You speak so sweet but how do I know-“

“You don’t and I don’t blame you” she cut you off and grabbed your hand placing it over her chest to let you feel her hammering heart “but this is for you. All of you” your eyes started burning and she smiled softly “I want to walk around and hold your hand, I want to call you my girlfriend and kiss you whenever I want” Natasha moved your hand to her lips and kissed your fingertips making your heart flutter at the gentleness “I want you scolding me when you are moody, I want you bossing me around like a child, I want to be the one that makes you laugh, I want everything” she continued and a tear rolled down your cheek “I want you for you. I did this for you, to prove… No, to show you that you are worth the effort”

“Do you mean that?” your voice sounded broken, terrified but with a bit of hope and that was enough for Natasha.

“Every word. You know, the worst thing this week was not be able to flirt with you publicly. Not only because I want to scare your fan club away” you rolled your eyes playfully and she grinned as she noticed the way you kept relaxing “but because god, I missed having you around that much. And also, I found out women are really dumb”

“Natasha, that’s mean” you scolded her and smacked her arm but she giggled.

“Maybe, but no one is as smart as you are” she leaned and kissed your neck “Not only are you insanely hot” she whispered against your skin and your eyes closed “you are smart, funny, sometimes a bitch” you punched her arm again and she chuckled “aggressive too and god, you smell so good”

“It’s called showering” you teased as your fingers tangled with her hair and her lips kept leaving soft kisses on your neck.

“Believe me, you smell good even when you are all sweaty after a workout. And your voice is so sweet” she moved to your jawline and you whimpered “yes, including all the delicious sounds you make in bed” she smirked and you couldn’t find in yourself to say something smart back “They say you have the cure. You don’t have it, you are the cure because you are worth retiring from an empty life”

“Stop saying those things” you whispered and she looked at you confused, thinking she was saying all the right things.

“Why? Are you uncomfortable?” she asked carefully and you shook your head.

“No. You are making me fall in love with you even more” you cradled her face and you brushed your nose against hers “and you are also turning me on and we are very much in public”

“Well, it’s only fair to make you fall in love with me. Because I’m already irremediably in love with you” she whispered and you giggled softly when green eyes twinkled with adoration “So, what you say? Will you go out with me? If you don’t like the date, you can kick me out of the house”

“Hm, that’s a lot of faith in your date” you teased her but smiled “Yes, I’ll go out with you. In fact, I think we should leave right now”

Natasha pulled back and furrowed her brows “Don’t you have like one class left?”

“Wands can give me her notes” you shrugged and rolled your hips making her moan “And I meant it when I said you were turning me on”

“Tempting but you have to eat first” you pouted and she shook her head “Half the salad and I’ll fuck you after or you will have to wait after the date”

You looked at her in awe. Usually, it would take a single hint for Natasha to drag you to the closest place to fuck you and now she seemed unbothered. She wasn’t even hard.

“Where is this self-control coming from?” you breathed out and rolled your hips again but she just laughed “Oh god, did leaving you without sex a week make you immune to me?”

“Not really but caring about you made me have self-control” she pecked your lips and pulled before you could deepened the kiss “Now eat and we can leave”

“I hate you” you groaned as you climbed down her lap to eat, noticing she already cut your food the way you like and you smiled softly.

“No, you don’t” she pecked your cheek and you looked at her, your eyes twinkling with the same adoration.

“No, I don’t”

(—)

Sex was never an important part of your life.

You liked it but maybe not enough to be jumping on your exes bones all desperate and needy. In fact, their best chance to get you excited about it always came when you were ovulating and even then, the experience was mild.

It wasn’t that your exes weren’t good or attractive, after all you accepted to go out with them for a reason. But that burning feeling of desiring someone so much that your body ached was never part of your past self.

You never begged, never asked, never got too touchy and desperate during a make out session to the point you needed to get fucked. It took a lot to turn you on and if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care enough. And you felt bad for not matching the same amount of desire and need, but it wasn’t there and you thought it would never be.

Until Natasha came around.

The first night, the roughness of the fight, the aim of every word, the proximity of your bodies ignited every inch of your body. And you thought it was just the intensity of the moment, that it was the main reason why fighting was your version of foreplay — to some point it was.

But the more Natasha and you fucked, the more you started to realise that it wasn’t just that. When the fighting turned into a simple exchange of words to drag you into the closest room to fuck and the kisses damped your underwear, you started noticing that maybe it wasn’t just about the fighting or the intensity of the moment but who was the counterpart.

Back then it was a maybe because you refused to give Natasha that much credit. She didn’t deserve the right to be or know how aroused you got just for her and no one else.

Now, there was no point in pretending that maybe in the past it wasn’t that you didn’t desire your exes that much, maybe you never were really into them.

You were very much into Natasha, though. And everything about her was a turn on.

Physically, she was too damn hot. She wore tank tops and you had to squeeze your legs together at the sight of her arms. If she was just in her sports bra, you were drooling at the sight of her abdomen. And god forbid she was in shorts because you ended up biting your lip at the sight of her thighs.

But it didn’t end there.

You found yourself more than once looking at plumped lips and wishing they were over you. Green eyes twinkled and you wanted to drop on your knees for her. Her cheeks flushed and all you could picture was the way they turned into a deeper shade of red when she was looking at you focused and sweaty as she fucked you.

Hands, neck, collarbone, even her toned back and the dimples in her lower back drove you crazy. Every part of her body was a turn on.

And then it came her scent; smoky, citric and leathery scent lingered in the air and you were already wet — even more so when it was mixed with her sweat after a workout. Her voice in the mornings all raspy and sweet. Her hot breath against your skin or the softness of the sweet kisses that had no intention behind.

Her personality was also a turn on.

She went from goofy to dominant in a blink of an eye, but even her silly jokes did weird things in your body. Natasha said something sweet and your knees felt weak. If she got all possessive and jealous, you were ready to get ruined. She laughed or made a silly joke and your skin tingled.

But the biggest turn on was Natasha being her smart self.

When she dropped a fact that you didn’t know, you would be dragging her to the bedroom. If she was focused reading and wearing glasses, you would find a way to slide over her lap. She talked in another language and she got kissed desperately. You learned she painted, she danced, she cooked and not only she could do those things, Natasha sat and talked about them with a lot of knowledge that more than once you found yourself wishing to have her babies.

And now, after she talked so sweet, said all the right things, cut your food the way you liked, bought the tea you always drank and smiled so softly when you finished your food — you were ready to give her your whole self in every damn way she wished.

You watched her as she finished the salad, the way she played around with the goat cheese and grimaced when eating it. And that made your heart fluttered because she always made the effort and never complained about it.

“Leave it, you don’t have to eat it” you said softly and Natasha looked at you “I know you hate it”

“I also hate throwing food away” she replied and you leaned closer and pecked her cheek “You are being scarily sweet” Natasha teased and you smirked.

“You said all the right things. You deserve to be treated with sweetness” you whispered and your index finger pressed on her side to make her turn her face. Your eyes twinkled with devotion and Natasha’s heart skipped a beat “Why don’t we just leave, hm? Let me show you how much I’ve missed you”

Natasha whimpered and you brushed your lips against hers, teasing the kiss and noticing the way her breath hitched. She closed her eyes and you smiled softly, the tip of your tongue outlining her lower lip and she whimpered again, impatiently.

Your fingers tangled with her hair as you pulled her closer. Lips crashing against hers but moving so slow that it hurt but ignited her skin. You moved to straddled her lap and deepened the kiss.

Her fingers dug on your skin as you led the kiss. There was something about holding back the urge to turn it into something desperate that was turning you both on. It was sensual, charged with something raw and real.

You bit her lip and Natasha moaned, hands moving down your ass and squeezing as she pulled you closer. You moaned against her mouth and tugged her hair. None of you were ready to break the kiss, forgetting that you were very much in public and anyone could see you making out.

Your hips rolled softly, teasingly and she grunted, feeling the way her cock reacted to your movements. It always did. And you broke the kiss to move down to her jawline, kissing softly, worshipping her as if she was the most precious thing in the world.

To you, she was.

Natasha usually did all those things. She loved worshipping you as much as she loved degrading you and you always let her. But in that moment, with your mind fully quiet and your skin buzzing with desire, you needed her to also understand you would also break free from your own chains for her.

No more holding back your feelings, no more running, no more pretending you had self-control when it came to her. You were ready to let her know how much you desired her, to make her feel half of the things she did to you.

You moved down to her neck, teasing licks making her moan as she kept her eyes closed and her hands squeezed your ass again.

“Princess, someone could see us” she whimpered when you started sucking her neck.

“Let them” you murmured and licked the bruise “You are mine, only mine”

“Is that so?” Natasha teased and you pulled back to look at her, your pupils dilated and your cheeks flushed. But you had your serious face on.

“Yes. Mine” you kissed her again and her heart started beating fast because you never claimed her like that.

There was a side of Natasha that feared you didn’t like her as much as she liked you. But in that moment, you were showing her how much you wanted her.

You always gave yourself to her. Your body was hers to claim, to mark, to use. However, the redhead knew the kiss was different from the others because you now were giving her yourself fully. It wasn’t just your body, it was your heart and your mind.

“Yeah, let’s leave now” she murmured, breaking the kiss and you smiled “Wait, Amelia is…”

“Studio, the car, wherever you want” you said eagerly and she nodded.

You both worked fast, picking all the trash and throwing it away. You handed Natasha the car keys and she grabbed your backpack and hers as you placed her jacket over your shoulders, making her smile with adoration because Natasha loved when you wore her clothes.

Natasha hesitated when you started walking, trying to decide if grabbing your hand was pushing too much. So for once you made it easy for her and you held her hand and intertwined your fingers.

And people stared, whispering and pointing after not seeing you both together for a week. But there was also this shift around you that finally spoke volumes about your situation. Everyone saw you kissing, hanging together, the way Natasha followed you around or the way you always found your place in her lap but at the same time Natasha kept flirting and you kept your distance.

Now, you both screamed official relationship even if when Natasha was waiting for the date to ask. But it didn’t matter anymore, it was a formality since you were already hers.

You arrived to your car soon enough and Natasha drove with purpose, stealing kisses at every stop and singing along with you and to you.

Two broken souls already starting to slowly heal as they let themselves truly feel.

That week was tantalising but it helped to also cleared your minds. To crack open the vault of your feelings and let them come out to play freely. No more holding back. No more pretending. No more fighting yourselves.

Just you and Natasha.

Some thought you were doomed to destroy each other. A pair that was so out of place, different worlds colliding and didn’t match. You were too perfect and Natasha was too much of a player to leave the game behind. How could you survive that?

For some others, you made total sense. The balance of two worlds, two personalities that were strong enough to keep each other grounded and real.

However, the world could think whatever they wanted. Both statements were a possibility but you both were in cloud nine as something softer but raw wrapped around you. And for once you dared to name it in your head.

It was love.

(—)

Natasha parked the car outside the studio and both almost ran inside, but held back still a little afraid of showing how much you needed each other.

Once on the top floor, you couldn’t hold back anymore. Natasha gasped when you threw yourself at her as she kicked the door close.

You kissed as hands worked fast to get rid of clothes, neither knowing where to focus first but managing to scatter your clothes all around the studio as you made your way to the bed.

“How much time do we have?” you asked against her lips as you rubbed your hand against her dick over her boxers and she whimpered, only breaking the kiss to look at the watch on her wrist.

“Two hours at best” she panted as you kissed her neck with your hand still working on her dick “Maybe one hour and a half”

“Why? What are we doing?” you pulled back to look at her and she just grinned “Romanoff”

“I’m not telling you” she kissed your neck this time and you moaned, closing your eyes as your bodies landed on the bed.

“I don’t even know if I’m dressed properly” you grunted and she toyed with the waistband of your underwear and kept kissing you “Natasha”

“God, stop talking please” she groaned and you glared at her “I got it covered, okay? That’s why we are leaving earlier so you can get ready”

“You are lucky I’m horny because I wouldn’t let you touch me” you pushed her down the bed and straddled her hips, both moaning at contact of her dick against your cunt “Now, today is my turn and if you talk I’ll kill you”

“What are you-“ but she was cut off by your lips over hers.

You kissed her desperately, as if it was the first time you had ever kissed her and you needed to merge with her. You got rid of her sports bra with her help and moved down her neck.

“You always call me a slut but you are the biggest one here” you whispered in her ear and she whimpered “Fucking all those girls and for what? To have lame sex?”

“Sex with me is never-“ you bit her neck and she moaned, sucking and marking with purpose.

All the times you had fucked, Natasha was always in charge and you let her. You needed her to, because you walked around the world with this heavy feeling of control over your shoulders that when she took it away, it was like breathing for the first time.

You marked her because it was hot and your head was too dizzy to think deeper; now, it was with every intention to possess and claim what was now rightfully yours.

You were never jealous, but you needed the world to know Natasha Romanoff was yours and only yours.

“You know what I think? That sex was average before” you said as moved down her chest “Enough to make you cum but did you ever feel like this?”

The redhead whimpered as you marked her and you took more time than necessary over her abdomen. Every girl loved talking about how hot she looked when her tees were shorter and her abs showed.

And then you moved down, tugging down her boxers and your mouth watered at the sight of her fully erect cock. Your hand wrapped around her dick, barely moving and Natasha grunted.

“Come on, princess, don’t play” she hissed, looking at you as offered her a wolfish grin.

“I’m not playing. I’m making a statement, Natasha” you explained with faux innocence, your tongue tracing her length and she jerked her hips up “Did you like their mouth as you like mine? Were they better?”

“Princess, why are you-“

“Answer me or I swear to god I’ll stop” you demanded and Natasha moaned, your hot breath against her tip and her hands trying to reach your head but you smacked them away “No touching. Answer”

“No, princess, they were average” she breathed out and you hummed, wrapping your mouth around her tip and your tongue swirled “You are so much better”

“How I know you are not lying just to cum, hm?” you said with your hand moving up and down, giving her kitten licks and Natasha moaned “Romanoff”

The redhead tried to focus but your energy was overwhelming. No one had ever taken control over her, not in bed. The bedroom was the only place she could have entire control, giving and feeling whatever she pleased.

However, you were there giving her more than just a blowjob. It was the sense of belonging that she always thought she would never experience, it was feeling like someone needed to claim her for once and it was more than just physical attraction.

Deep inside of her, Natasha always knew that girls only liked her for what she could give, out of curiosity and lust. But you were there, taking your throne as if she was already yours to take and claim and it was far from sexual despite your words.

You were telling her no one could ever make her feel like you. Not in bed. Not in life. Nowhere because your heart beat as fast as hers knowing she desired you as much.

“I- I’ve never cum so fast, princess. I only do it with you” she admitted, cheeks flushing at the admission but it seemed to be enough for you because you finally took her fully “Fuck, I missed your mouth”

You bobbed your head and Natasha saw stars the second you took her all in, deep throating her and gagging as your saliva dripped down to her skin.

Her hands never felt the same that week when she had to take matters on her own. Your mouth, your pussy and your hands were now the only ones that could keep her satisfied.

And she tried to buck her hips up and you held her down. This wasn’t her moment to seek her pleasure only, it was about you reminding her that only you could do it for her.

You were the only one that truly made her feel more than just pleasure, her feelings igniting her skin as much as her need of you.

She rolled back her eyes, your mouth popping around her tip as your hand kept jerking her off and when her eyes met yours, you looked as drunk on her as she was on you.

Natasha moaned when you sucked on one of her balls and then the other one and you looked so perfect. But then you did something better, something so damn sweet that she was pushed to the edge.

You started kissing softly her thighs, worshipping her, silently telling her that you liked every inch of herself. You moved up, your hand still working on her and there weren’t more bites, just the same sweet kisses that meant the world to her.

You saw her as much as she saw you.

“You always tell me how perfect I am” you whispered once your face was closer to hers “But you, Natasha Romanoff, are equally or more perfect” you kissed her softly and her chest felt heavy, her mind got dizzy “No one will ever fuck you like I do because they don’t see all of you. They don’t see what I do” you kissed her again but your words were the ones that knocked the air out of her lungs “And now you are mine, only mine. Mine to claim, mine to kiss, mine to make you cum, mine to adore”

“Princess, I’m so close” she pleaded and you smiled softly.

“Where is that self-control you were so proud about earlier?” you teased her and she whined “Hold it, Nat. Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t think-“

“I think you can. Just a little more” you murmured and she moaned when you kissed her again. Your movements weren’t slowing down, they only got faster and Natasha was trying to really hold back for you “I’ll tell you a little secret” you whispered and Natasha bit her lip as you started to go down again “All of you turns me on. Your voice, your scent, your body, your big brain, everything” you kissed her with the same devotion as before and Natasha mewled “Shh, Nat. Almost there. Just know, I’m not like you” you stated but it wasn’t meant to insult, you were explaining and Natasha’s heart skipped a beat “Pretty girls or boys are not enough to turn me on, I only liked sex but with you I enjoy it. I crave it. So I’m yours as much as you are mine” Natasha moaned and you winked at her when she looked down “Cum in my mouth because god knows I need to be claimed as much as you do”

You wrapped your mouth again around her and Natasha moaned louder. Your hands reached for hers, one intertwining your fingers and the other one guiding her hand to your hair.

Her mind felt hazy and her sight blurred, the emotions were so much stronger with all your words, with your sweet movements, it was sex but it really wasn’t. Because pleasure came not only from a touch, it came from an emotion so powerful Natasha felt like she was about to pass out.

And after a few more minutes of you giving her what was probably the best blowjob of her life, Natasha screamed out your name and spilled in your mouth. Your movements slowed down but you swallowed every drop.

She was panting, her body sweaty and her skin still tingling as you crawled up. Your small body wrapping around hers, your head resting against her chest as you listened to her fast beating heart and her arms wrapped around your body.

“Where did that all come from?” she breathed out and you looked up with a sweet smile.

“I told you, you said all the right things” you kissed her chin “See? It’s not so hard not being an idiot. Besides, I told you the truth”

“Did you?” she asked almost scared and you moved up to be closer to her face.

“I did. I do” you brushed your nose against hers “But if you weaponise it, I’ll deny everything”

She chuckled “Of course you would” the redhead flipped your bodies and she grinned “Now let me show you how much I meant mine”

“Just remember we have a schedule to follow” you reminded her and she waved you off, already moving down your body.

And before you could start scolding her, Natasha was already getting rid of your underwear and her mouth wrapped around your clit, ripping out a moan out of your throat.

God, you really missed her. All of her.

(—)

You were almost late and the only thing that made you stop was remembering how long you waited for that date.

As soon as you arrived to the loft and greeted Amelia, both went your separate ways to shower because you wouldn’t leave the apartment if you did it together.

And as always, Natasha was the first one to be ready. You were in the middle of rubbing lotion all over your body when she walked into your room as if it was her own. Holding a big box in her hands but that didn’t make your breath hitch, she did.

The redhead was wearing a pair of black slacks with a crimson blouse that was tight around her arms. Her hair was still wet and down and she was wearing some rings and a necklace you’ve never seen before with a small crown on it.

“What do you think?” she smiled proudly as she posed for you and you chuckled.

“I’m about to cancel that date just to drag you to my bed” you pecked her lips “What’s that necklace?”

The redhead grinned “It’s a crown, do you like it?”

“I can see that. And yes, I do” you grabbed it and looked at it carefully “Very pretty but so not like you”

“No, you are right” she shrugged and sat on your bed “It’s like you” your heart skipped a beat and you looked at her “A crown for princess. Like you”

“Who would’ve thought you can be this sweet?” you teased and kissed her “Keep it up and you will have me on my knees all the time”

“I already do” she laughed and you glared at her, flipping her off.

“And you killed the moment” you huffed and walked back to your closet “What should I wear? Dress? Come here so I can match”

Natasha approached you and offered you the box in her hands, you raised a brow and looked at her as she offered you a sheepish smile.

“This. Wear this” she said shyly and you grabbed the box, opening it as she scratched her neck nervously “I know you think I dress like a homeless person, but I swear I tried my best” you looked up, squinting your eyes and her cheeks flushed “and maybe I got a little help”

You hummed and unwrapped the clothes. It was a pair of black cargo pants and a midnight blue bodysuit. You furrowed your brows and looked at her.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the gift. I really do” you started softly and she bit her lip “But I’ll looked out of place and I don’t even know where are we going”

“You won’t and you don’t” she rushed to say and got closer “I dressed like this because you like it. It’s only fair you dress like that because I like when you look so casual and free” your heart fluttered and her eyes twinkled “Don’t worry, you will like where we are going”

“You keep saying that” you teased and pecked her lips “Now, let me change before I start undressing you”

Natasha chuckled “Don’t wear heels, we are taking the bike”

You groaned but agreed as she left the closet, announcing she forgot something and would be back soon. And you changed, taking extra time to choose the perfect underwear because Natasha kept being so sweet and you were getting hornier by the second.

And the clothes fitted, meaning probably Wanda was the one that helped her with your size. The bodysuit had long sleeves and the cargo pants reached down your hips letting your hipbones show and you knew Natasha picked it exactly for that because the redhead loved kissing those parts.

You picked a pair of sneakers and went to your vanity desk to do your make up and hair. Natasha was already back, scrolling down her phone and whistling when you walked out of the closet.

“How much time do I have?” you asked as you started doing your hair and Natasha shrugged “What do you mean by that? Natasha-“

“Take your time, there’s no rush. No yet, anyway” she said softly and walked to you, offering you another box “I thought about giving you a necklace but you always wear the same one” she explained and you looked at her through the mirror.

“You are spoiling me” you said and opened the small box, a silver bracelet with only two charms: a ballerina and a motorbike “Honestly, were you always this sweet?” you asked her, handing her the bracelet and she helped you put it on.

“Hard to tell. You would be my first girlfriend” she admitted and her cheeks blushed “Am I overdoing it?” she asked shyly and you giggled.

“No, of course not” you caressed her cheek as she leaned down and pecked her lips “At least I’m the first on something” you teased and she rolled your eyes.

“And it’s better that way. Imagine a seventeen year old coming in seconds” she laughed and went back to the bed “Now I’m trained for you”

“You still cum in seconds, Nat”

She flipped you off and you smiled triumphantly.

Soon enough, you were finishing your makeup and putting on jewellery, making sure that on your wrist was only Natasha’s bracelet and your watch.

The redhead walked up to you and grabbed one of your perfumes as you watched her with amusement. She smelled all of them and then handed you one she liked and you raised a brow.

“That’s my favourite, I’ll buy you more” Natasha explained and you chuckled.

“So now you will choose what I wear, how I smell and how I look?” you teased but sprayed the perfume and when you were putting it down she snatched it from your hands and sprayed more.

“Yes, sometimes that pretty head should stop thinking” she grinned and wrapped her arms around your waist “Let me do the thinking, princess”

You hummed “Tempting, but you not always think with your brain”

“That’s the best way of thinking” her eyes twinkled with mischief and you rolled your eyes playfully “Ready to go?”

“Let me grab a purse. Want to choose that one too?” you teased and Natasha grimaced, making you laugh “Yeah, that’s what I thought”

You walked out of the apartment holding hands and saying goodbye to Amelia right after you picked a mini bag only for your lipstick, wallet and phone.

You tried to persuade Natasha into taking the car, even when you didn’t hate the bike so much but for once, she didn’t oblige. So you ended up in the back of her motorbike, with your arms wrapped around her and your scent mixing with hers.

The redhead refused to tell where you were going and you stopped asking. But confusion grew when you stopped at Mercer Lab and she simply smiled.

“You know it’s closed, right?” you asked, climbing down the motorbike and she grabbed you tightly when you stumbled.

“You know money really can open doors, right?” she teased and offered you her arm. You locked your arm with hers and she walked “Besides, this is just a stop and for once my parents money it’s useful”

“Your parents will kill you” you said softly as you walked to the entrance and she snorted.

“My mother would kill me if I didn’t go big for this” she shrugged, a bitter edge to her words and you decided to ask later “And I only rented one room. We have exactly thirty minutes, let’s go”

Natasha greeted the security and gave her name. The place was slightly dark, dimmed lights illuminating the halls as you reached the room called ‘The Map’.

The room was completely dark and the redhead guided you carefully. All of a sudden, the room’s walls lighted up with pictures of the stars but in the center was one you laughing next to Wanda.

“What is this?” you asked nervously, your fingers twitching at your image and Natasha noticed. Wrapping her arms from behind and resting her chin over your shoulder.

“Look” she turned you to one wall, her voice soft and endearing “That’s how the stars looked the day you were born” you looked over your shoulder and her eyes twinkled “So bright for the star that was born, don’t you think?”

“This is getting scary” you teased and turned to wrap your arms around her neck “no one will believe me you are this sweet”

“It’s only for you, princess” she whispered and you kissed her softly, even when your body started buzzing with need of jumping on her again like a horny teenager “Let me keep going” she murmured and you whined “Come on, we will run out of time”

“I just feel sorry for you, you are setting your bar pretty high. I wonder what will you do to top this” you whispered and she chuckled, turning you around again and making you face another wall.

“That’s how the skies looked the night at the party” she whispered, her lips brushing your ear and you bit your lip “The very first night you felt something for me: hatred” you giggled and she smiled “The first night the stars weren’t really up there, they were in your eyes”

“Natasha, you-“

“Shh, princess, just listen” the redhead murmured and turned you to the next wall “And that’s how the skies looked the night we were at the beach” you whimpered as her fingers dug in your hips and Natasha placed a chaste kiss on your neck “That’s when I first said I thought I was falling in love with you. I wasn’t sure, I was so scared” she admitted and your hands grabbed hers to steady yourself “But you replied and once again you brought the stars down with your words” she kissed your neck again and you leaned back “We didn’t know, we weren’t sure, but the admission cracked something open for us”

“You will make me cry and if my makeup gets ruined-“

“You will kill me, I know. But I promise it’s not my intention, it’s the truth” she then turned you to face again the picture of you and your heart hammered, anxiously since you hated looking at yourself but excited for her words “You never say it, but I know you struggle with yourself” she explained softly, her voice softer and lower, her arms tightening around you “I took it, I love taking pictures but never had a muse” she continued and your breath hitched “But of course someone as pretty as you would be my muse. My star” Natasha turned you around and your eyes were already filled with tears “If you only could see what I do. You are not just one star, you are the entire galaxy” she pressed her forehead against yours and you sobbed “And here, surrounded by all the important moments I promise you I will try my best to be the best girlfriend you have ever had”

“And making your girlfriend cry already is doing your best?” you teased mid sob and she chuckled.

“Is that a yes?” she asked and you smacked her arm, carefully wiping your tears.

“Of course is a yes, idiot” you replied with a broken voice and she lifted your chin carefully “You are lucky you are hot” she leaned closer and hummed “And that maybe I’m close to my period” she brushed her lips against yours and you closed your eyes “And that I’m in love with you”

“I’m very lucky” she murmured and kissed you passionately, softly and at the same time fully charged with unspoken feelings.

Your fingers tugged her hair as she pulled you closer. A kiss that felt so familiar but new. You both weren’t the same after that first night, you gave each other parts of yourselves without noticing and for the first time, the kiss felt like two pieces that matched perfectly.

Natasha thought everyone would leave, but you were still there. And you thought no one would like you for who you were, but Natasha liked even the messed up parts. Specially the messed up parts.

She let herself be her true and loving self, the one that would give you the world if you just stayed, if you just saw her and you already did.

You showed her the cracks on your perfect mask, and she only saw more perfection in something so broken. Never judged, never took, she just enjoyed. Because your broken parts made you more beautiful, reachable, a dream between her arms.

People wanted you both for the looks, for the idea of you, because both were something so out of reach. Just like the stars. But it wasn’t real, stars shone even after they died.

But you both were very much real. Like the biggest star in the universe, a sun that for once wasn’t burning but just keeping you warm.

Maybe there really was light in the darkest room. Or at least, as long as Natasha was there.

(—)

You left the place right on time because not only you had to arrive for the next stop, but Natasha also knew how you got when you were late.

Even if you didn’t know to what.

You made it to the Madison Square Garden and your ears started ringing with excitement. You looked at her in disbelief and she smiled as she helped you out of the bike once again.

Sometimes, Natasha seemed like the person that didn’t quite listen. But she always did. You learned that during Spanish class when she was too busy teasing you just to pass the tests as if she studied for days.

The redhead was always listening, she only decided what was worth keeping and what to throw away. And even when she tried at first, everything about you stuck in her mind without even trying.

“It was sold out” you mentioned as you both walked towards the venue, hands glued together while her other hand looked inside her slacks.

“It was and once again, nothing money can’t fix” she kissed your temple “Father is friends with the owner too”

“This is the most you’ve mentioned your parents” you said softly, careful of not scaring her away and she shrugged.

“It’s because for once, they are useful” she replied, again with that bitter edge and her eyes clouded for a second but soon softened “You already know my father. You will meet mother eventually”

“You don’t sound so excited” you whispered and Natasha looked at you with seriousness.

“Don’t think it’s because of you” she explained and pulled you closer “I already told you what mother did” you hummed and she sighed “It’s only the tip of the iceberg, princess. I’ll explain another time”

“You keep saying that…”

“And I will, but not tonight” she cut you off and showed you a badge “Now put on this” the redhead helped you and pecked your lips “Let’s meet the man you fawn over so much”

You giggled “Jealous much?” you teased and she groaned dramatically, tossing her head back.

“A lot. My abs are better” she pouted and you raised a brow “And I bet I’m bigger”

“Somehow, it’s not convincing me” you teased her again and she glared at you “That’s more like you. I’ll tell you what he won’t have, though” you stood on your tiptoes and whispered in her ear “Amazing sex once we go back home”

“I hope so, because I meant the meeting part” she said biting her lip and you furrowed your brows “But if he touches you…”

“You are telling me we will meet Benito” you asked in disbelief and she tilted her head confused “Bad Bunny, you uneducated idiot”

“Keep it up and I’ll gift the badges” she grunted and you pouted “That’s what I thought”

You giggled and let her guide you around the venue. She moved behind you to shield your body once the crowd started getting bigger, nudging people for you and at some point you gasped when she decided it would be easier if she just carried you, hoisting you over her shoulder and you huffed.

“I can walk” you groaned but let her carry you.

“And you can also get crushed, you are too tiny” she said dismissively and you sighed dramatically, ignoring people that looked at you with curiosity.

“So it’s convenient that I’m tiny when you want and then it’s not” you huffed again and she chuckled “People are staring”

“It’s your ass. You are too hot” she slapped it “And mine, so mine”

“Is it too late to back down from the girlfriend title?” you teased and she huffed now.

“Too late, you said yes”

Natasha kept walking and once you went through security and they were leading you directly to his dressing room, she put you down.

Your hand immediately intertwined with hers, as if being away was too painful. It probably was because you were used to her being so close and feeling so safe around her, that now it was almost impossible to imagine being out of her reach.

“I thought it was a meet and greet” you whispered as the security guard stopped in front of a door and Natasha looked at you with amusement.

“There wasn’t one” she explained “And I called in a lot of favours, so don’t dump me for him”

Your heart fluttered because Natasha really outdid every past date you had ever had. She put on so much effort that for once, you didn’t know what to do to thank her.

The first part was about you both; it was sweet and thoughtful, something she created for you both and of course you would give her all of you in exchange.

But this was entirely about you and what you liked. Natasha never complained when you put on Bad Bunny in the mornings, she only teased you but you knew the redhead wasn’t a big fan.

Yet, Natasha made the effort to learn his songs to at least hum during the whole concert. And she got everything ready and prepared for you, just to make you happy. Because you could’ve said no and she would’ve taken you there anyway, Natasha would’ve done anything to make you smile.

And you were really smiling when the door opened.

You looked like a kid in a candy store and with a free pass to grab anything you wanted. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes twinkled with excitement as you tried to act all cool and slightly interested.

Natasha would’ve mocked you if it wasn’t because you truly were excited. Almost as happy as you looked when dancing. But never as happy as you did with her because Natasha made you happier than anything.

However, green eyes darkened when he wrapped his arms around you and called you pretty. Her fingers twitched but she kept telling herself nothing was happening.

The staff snapped some pictures but he wasn’t letting you go, an arm wrapped around your waist as you beckoned her to get closer. And you talked in Spanish, your words stumbling a little out of nerves and Natasha was about to lose it since her eyes were focused on big hands over your hips.

“Nat, come on” you ushered her and she moved robotically. You tilted your head slightly to the side and giggled. Natasha got jealous easily, but right now she was fighting herself and trying to respect your moment. Which only made her hotter in your eyes “This is my girlfriend Natasha”

You moved away from his grip and wrapped your arms around her neck. She blinked and looked at you, twinkling eyes looking at her with devotion that was just for her.

You were excited but it was far from meeting someone you admired, it was because Natasha really put a lot of effort to create the most perfect night.

The redhead relaxed and wrapped an arm around your waist, a silent claim that spoke volumes. The rightful place for her arms and it was only hers.

You stayed a few more minutes, snapped a few more pictures of the three of you and then you said your goodbyes. You left the room and before the security guy could take you to your seats, you pulled Natasha into a kiss.

Her lips moved before her mind registered what was happening, her grip tightened around you and you smiled against her lips.

“You are so getting fucked tonight” you whispered and she whimpered “Easy, tiger. I have a concert to enjoy”

“You are lucky I like you so much” she murmured and you giggled.

“I really am” you pecked her lips “Where are our seats?”

Natasha smirked and let the security guard to guide you around the place. Your grip tightened when you walked into a suit in front of the stage but it wasn’t only that, your friends were there too along with your brother and a blonde you didn’t recognise and looked younger.

You looked at Natasha and her smirk widened.

“Did I make it to the second date?” she teased and you smacked her arm but kissed her again “I’m not good with mixed signals”

“I just wonder how you will top tonight” you whispered and she chuckled “Honestly, how much money your parents have? I’m officially a pauper”

Natasha snorted “First, apparently not enough. Second, you also have money”

“Doubtful” you shrugged and pecked her lips “And we have food”

“Don’t worry, Wanda helped me pick the menu” Natasha grabbed your hand and leaned “But before we do that, I want you to meet someone and believe me, I was ambushed for this”

“Ambushed?”

“My little sister threw a big tantrum when I told her about the date and how I was inviting our friends and your brother” she whispered and you giggled “I hope you don’t mind”

“I don’t” you intertwined your fingers again and looked at the blonde that was eyeing you carefully “Let’s meet the little sis, then”

But before you could approach Natasha’s sister, the redhead excused herself for a second to lecture her sister and you just hummed.

You tapped on your brother’s shoulder and Alec turned to look at you grinning. If anything, he loved Bad Bunny more than you did and he looked thrilled.

Big arms wrapped around you and he turned around, lifting your body and you giggled. He pecked your cheek and you smiled.

“I regret every single bad thing I said about Natasha” he said grinning and you rolled your eyes.

“You didn’t say anything bad. And it’s Natasha now?” you teased and he shrugged.

“Not to your face, but I thought we hated her” you chuckled and he smiled softly “And yes, she’s Natasha now because my sister is glowing so I assume you said yes?”

“It sounds like we got engaged” you giggled but nodded “But yes, she’s officially my girlfriend. A little hurt that you knew about this and didn’t tell me”

“What can I say? My silence is easily bought” he smirked and you punched his arm as he ruffled your hair and you glared at him “So much better”

“I’m your big sister” you grunted, trying to fix your hair and Wanda’s sweet scent reached your nose as her arms wrapped around you.

“And you never let him forget, isn’t that right sweetie?” Wanda said softly and your brother blushed, reminding you as that teenager that always forgot how to talk when she was around “I think I broke him again” she whispered in your ear and you smirked.

Alexander thought he was extremely subtle around Wanda. He was not. However and every time Wanda asked, you played dumb as the good sister you swore you were. But you also knew Wanda read you like the palm of her hand so at this point playing dumb was the same as letting her know the truth.

Alec saw your smirk and huffed, walking towards the small bar to grab a drink and you laughed. The brunette turned you around and hugged you tightly, as if neither of you had seen the other that same day.

“Is it true I can no longer flirt with you?” she teased and you chuckled.

“Please do, she will lose her mind and I will lose my ability to walk” you grinned and Wanda scrunched her nose and smacked your arm “You act like you are not getting any” the brunette avoided your gaze and her cheeks blushed “Oh god, you are not. What happened to…”

“Not worth my time. Honestly, you fucked me better” you rolled your eyes and she smiled.

“That’s a really low bar, Wands. Geez” you pecked her cheek “I mean, I was new and all but geez” she giggled and you locked your arm with hers, walking around the little suite “Anyway, it’s real. I officially tamed Natasha Romanoff”

“And apparently she tamed you” Wanda grinned and you huffed “Come on, you were as bad as her. The difference was that she loved fucking and you loved turning down people as if it was a professional sport”

“Hm and I will keep doing it as long as people don’t leave me alone” you ordered a drink and Wanda followed “Maybe you should go out with Alec and become sisters for real”

“I don’t think your brother will like the idea of us…”

“Of you what?” Pietro chimed in, popping his head in between yours and wrapping his arms around your shoulders “You cost me a lot of money today, gorgeous”

“You betted against Natasha?” you chuckled and he hummed “Such a good boy, always betting on me” you pecked his cheek and he smiled proudly “But she brought you here so be nice”

He sighed dramatically “I guess I will. Even if she just stole the woman… Oof!” Wanda hit him with his elbow and you furrowed your brows.

“Get lost, Pietro” she commanded and her twin glared at her “Now!” you watched her carefully but she shrugged “Don’t ask”

“I won’t. Anyway, Alec?” you went back to the subject and she groaned “Don’t use us as an excuse. He doesn’t need to know that”

“See, what if it ends badly and you hate me?” she asked softly and you tilted your head slightly to the side, looking at her like she just grew another head even when you knew her reasoning was more than fair.

Wanda, unlike Alec, was a little more subtle because she did have a small crush on your brother. Maybe not to the point to stop functioning around him, but it was there and you could see it.

Sadly for the two innocent souls, since you were in love everyone should be in love. And the sickly sweet storm was starting, Wanda could feel it in her bones but she wouldn’t dare to break your bubble.

Wanda had seen you with exactly three partners. You were always soft, always caring but never enough. They followed you around like lost puppies, but you never followed back with the same energy.

And maybe you hadn’t noticed, but you followed Natasha with the same energy she followed you. An attraction force between the two that it was only natural for you to end up together.

You started smiling and eating a little bit more, specially if Natasha was around and Wanda would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little jealous that the redhead managed to make you eat a tiny bit more without trying too hard. But it was a good change so she sucked it up.

Just like everyone else, Wanda heard the news that week of Natasha officially turning into an asshole. And the brunette felt really good knowing she helped her with the date when she asked, because one side of her feared Natasha would fuck it up.

But if you were trusting Natasha that much to let her in, why wouldn’t your best friend?

Of course, Wanda still threatened Natasha and that day the redhead learned that the always sweet and loving Wanda was nothing but an act. Unless she was around you and sometimes Pietro.

“I would never hate you” you said softly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear “You know that”

“It’s not the same” she insisted and you sighed “Come on, the hottest bachelorettes in campus are now in a relationship. Maybe it’s my time to shine”

“I don’t share” you grunted and she rolled her eyes “Mine”

“I’m your best friend, not your girlfriend” she flicked her finger on your forehead and you pouted “And I’m sharing you with Natasha”

“I think it’s the only way around” Natasha teased and wrapped her arms around you from behind “God, I missed you. Clint and Yelena are a pain in my ass” she pecked your cheek and you giggled.

“No, Romanoff. I’m sharing her” Wanda interjected before you could say anything and she leaned closer to you “Tell her I am or I will show her”

“Stop scaring my girlfriend, we literally just started dating” Wanda raised a brow and you squeaked “She’s sharing”

Natasha huffed and pulled you closer “Mine”

“God, you two are just the same” Wanda rolled her eyes but pecked your cheek “I’ll give you a moment, because I know how to share”

You hummed and turned to kiss Natasha, soft lips already tasting like beer as you tangled your fingers in her hair. You bit her lip and she whimpered. Her grip tightened around you and you pulled her even more, trying to almost merge with her. As if Natasha was the air your breathe.

In that moment, she was.

“I missed you too” you whispered and she smiled “Am I meeting your sister or are we pretending she’s not here?”

“She would kill me” Natasha groaned and you giggled “I want to apologise in advance for anything she says”

“I handle your insufferable ass all the time, I can take another Romanoff” you teased her and brushed your nose against hers “Let’s go”

You grabbed her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze as Natasha took a deep breath.

The redhead barely talked about her family. In fact, you had heard her mention her sister no more than twice. But you never pushed and honestly, before the feelings came to play, you didn’t care.

However, just like your family was a hard topic at moments, Natasha’s family was too. And you would’ve waited as long as she wanted to talk about them or being introduced to them. You would’ve waited as much if it wasn’t for your mother doing her grand appearance.

But you would find out soon enough that Yelena Romanoff loved to step into Natasha’s space without asking and without announcing. After all, they only had each other when growing up and Natasha loved her sister so much that she failed to say no to her.

Even if that meant the redhead had to introduce you two before she expected.

You walked side by side, half listening the last songs of the band during the opening act and smiling softly despite your nerves starting to spike because meeting Natasha’s sister was like a reality check.

Your relationship was real. Very real.

You hid slightly behind Natasha. Well, you weren’t sure if you were the one that moved or if Natasha was trying to shield you. Either way, you looked smaller next to her.

The redhead cleared her throat and her sister stopped talking with Clint, that with one glance disappeared not before squeezing your shoulder and pecking your cheek.

Yelena offered Natasha an amused smirk, noticing the way her sister was trying to shield you as if she was the actual threat of the Romanoff family. She wasn’t, it was Melina but Natasha had never had a girlfriend and she didn’t know how things could go.

“Yelena, this is…”

“The roommate” Yelena’s green eyes twinkled with mischief and you knew she was just a younger version of Natasha. Probably a little more messier than her sister and that was saying a lot.

“And I guess you are the sister” you smirked, tilting your head to the side and offered her your hand “But I would rather if you just called (Y/N)”

“Would you look at that? She will handle mother just fine, Tasha” Yelena grinned and pulled you into a hug, making you gasp and Natasha groaned as you hugged her back “Can we keep her?”

“Lena” Natasha warned and you laughed.

“Grumpy much, Romanoff?” you teased her and Natasha rolled her eyes “Quit the attitude”

“Definitely keeping” Yelena cheered and grinned at her sister “Imagine this vibe but with mother, Tasha”

“Stop talking about mom” Natasha gritted her teeth and you smiled softly at Yelena.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t know if Natasha will survive tonight as my girlfriend” you teased and the redhead pouted as Yelena laughed “Yelena, right?” the blonde one hummed, smiling proudly as if the idea of having a new sister in the family excited her. It did, in her mind you were already married because her mother always got what she wanted and this time Natasha wanted you as much “Well, I would love to get to know you. You should come to the apartment. But tonight, I really need to watch my man and the show it’s about to start”

“Your man? I’m right here” Natasha groaned and you ignored her, making Yelena laughed even more.

Yelena asked several times about you. Specially when she started noticing the extra effort her sister made to woo you.

After the night of the ballet and being left on her own around her parents, Yelena demanded answers. You had to be one hell of a woman if Natasha dared to leave her alone with those wolves.

And the redhead deflected until Yelena turned innocent questions into a living hell through text. Only then, Natasha told her she liked you and that was more than she would say to her. As if that would make her little sister shut up.

Naturally, Yelena asked even more until Natasha had enough and took her out for a coffee. Then, the words now weren’t so necessary. Not when her sister smiled like that one time their grandmother hijacked their summer and took them to Disneyland. Or the way Natasha’s eyes twinkled at the mention of your name.

The redhead fought really hard to avoid admitting she was in love and that was even more amusing to Yelena, because Natasha loved gaslighting herself about a lot of things but her body was betraying her this time.

And when she heard about the date, Yelena demanded to be invited. She even played dirty and threatened to give all the details to Melina. Natasha knew she was bluffing because Yelena wouldn’t dare but the mention of her mother was enough to understand how badly Yelena wanted to meet you.

The only one blindsided was you. And you micromanaged her sister with ease. Even if your heart was beating fast and your nerves kept screaming you couldn’t be yourself just to impress Natasha’s sister, you fought through it because you were right.

Yelena was the messier younger version of Natasha. A little more carefree than the redhead and loved to push her big sisters buttons as much as you did.

You both were fine.

“Hm, text me the address. Natasha refuses to tell” Yelena feigned sadness and Natasha glared at her but you were already pulling out your phone and offered it to her “I take it back, Natasha should be the one wondering if we are keeping her. You are now my favourite”

“Oh shut up, Lena. Or I’ll tell mother you are drinking” Natasha huffed and you chuckled.

“You go drink, I’ll keep your sister entertain and text you the address” you smiled and the redhead groaned, watching her sister leave triumphantly and then glared at you “Drop it, if your mother is anything like mine, I’ll need an ally that isn’t you”

“Look at you” she smirked and leaned closer “Already thinking about meeting the parents” she teased and grunted when you hit her with your elbow “Not fair”

“I told you once. I don’t play fair, I play to win” you pecked her lips and caressed her cheek “Come on, it’s about to start!”

(—)

The show was a dream but not because you danced to the songs or because the production was insane. But because Natasha didn’t dare to leave your side, hummed along to the songs and danced with you.

You both were drunk on each other, so high in the most powerful drug in the world that some part of you was afraid that when reality came it would crush you both.

However, you enjoyed the moment. You forgot about your friends and siblings. It was you, Natasha, bodies swaying gently, stolen kisses and the music.

By the time the show was over, you were more than ready to leave the venue and take Natasha to bed. That was the constant thought in your mind every time she moved her hips and whispered lyrics in your ear.

The date was more than perfect but it wasn’t about the amount of money she spent, it was the gesture, the amount of time she spent preparing everything and that it wasn’t only about you two, but she invited the people you cared about.

Natasha was nervous, though.

Because everything was perfect. Too perfect. And when perfection was around, her body only knew to prepare for the other shoe to drop. As if Melina would show up at the end of the night and break everything herself before the redhead had the chance to enjoy herself.

You said your goodbyes almost in a rush, dragging her out of there and grunting impatiently as Natasha walked behind you with all the calm in the world. You almost snatched the keys to the bike from her hand when she took her sweet time and the only thing that stopped you was knowing you didn’t know how to ride.

Soon enough, you arrived home and Natasha was still deep in thought. You only noticed it when you tried to kiss her neck and she barely reacted on your way up.

“Nat, what’s wrong?” you whispered and the redhead blinked, eyes softening when meeting yours “Are you having second thoughts?”

You bit your lower lip and Natasha furrowed her brows. She barely noticed she stopped listening. She hugged you so tightly as she feared you were about to vanish soon. The elevator door opened but you didn’t dare to break the hug.

“I’m not” she whispered “I’m afraid you will”

You pursed your lips, words sounded so broken and filled with pain that you were left speechless. So you grabbed her hand and guided her to the apartment, your body buzzing with another type of need. Something stronger and honest, the only thing you wished someone did for you when you were alone with your thoughts.

Protect.

Once inside the apartment, you only stopped to leave the helmets inside the closet without letting go of her hand. Natasha watched you carefully, her heart beating so fast that her ears were ringing and the silence felt oppressing.

But you kept moving.

You guided her to your room and sat her at the end of the bed. You knelt in front of her and she blinked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Princess, I know you promised but…”

“It’s not that. Just let me work” you whispered and she nodded.

You took off her shoes and then unzipped her slacks, tugging them down slowly and leaving kisses over her thighs. You straddled her lap and looked at her for a moment, green eyes clouded with genuine fear as you kept your movements silent.

You took off her blouse and then her bra. Your fingers brushed her hair and then traced every inch of her face. And when you stopped under her chin, you lifted it tenderly.

“I know I’m a bitch sometimes” you said softly and her lips parted to reply “No, you were right. I can be, I had been” you pressed your forehead against hers and she closed her eyes, your hand grabbing hers, placing it over your chest “This is also for you, all of you” she bit her lip “I can’t tell you what will happen next, I can’t promise you we won’t fight or that everything will be as perfect as tonight” you caressed her cheek “Look at me, Nat” she opened her eyes and you met teary eyes for the first time and your heart dropped “but I can promise you to try as much as you do. Don’t run now, we just started”

“You say that now, but my mother…”

“Do you care about mine?” you asked softly and she shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek and you wiped it away “Why would I care about yours? Yeah, she ran a background and god knows what she wants with that information” Natasha parted her lips, the answer in the tip of her tongue and you brushed your thumb over her lower lip “You will tell me when you are ready. Not tonight. Tonight it’s ours and tomorrow we can go back to fight”

“I don’t want to fight” she whispered and you chuckled.

“But you love foreplay, my love” you teased, the pet name leaving your lips before realising it but the way her eyes twinkled prevented you from taking it back “Hm, you like that” you whispered and she bit her lip as you pushed her back onto the bed “That’s okay, my love. I like it too” you kissed her softly and Natasha’s fingers curled around your waist “Let’s sleep tonight. Just let me clean my face”

Natasha groaned when you climbed down her lap, watching you walk into your closet and she followed you into the bathroom. Arms wrapping around your body as you watched her through the mirror and you opened a drawer.

“What?” she mumbled and you rolled your eyes.

“Brush your teeth. Here are some toothbrushes unless you want to go to your room?” you asked and she smiled softly, grabbing one that and moving around as you cleaned your face.

Both worked silently, Natasha’s chest bare and covered in the bruises from earlier that day. You smiled, finishing your skin care as she played with your pants and you said nothing.

Natasha kissed your neck and you brushed your teeth with her arms wrapped around you. Her fingers unbuttoning your cargo pants and her hand sneaked between your legs to unbutton your bodysuit just to place comfortably her hand over your abdomen.

“Can we go to bed now?” she asked softly and you looked at her amused.

“You know, you have a very clean skin” you said softly and Natasha squinted her eyes “But I wonder how much your skin would improve if I-“

“You can do whatever you want with me, but not tonight” she groaned and you giggled “Come on, let’s sleep” you hummed and undressed yourself slowly, her hands stopping you from reaching your pyjamas “I sleep naked and you don’t?”

You rolled your eyes but let her finish undressing you, both only left in your underwear as you walked back to your bed. You both moved the sheets and turned off the lights.

Natasha slid under the sheets and reached to wrap her arms around you as she always did but you smacked her hands and signalled her to turn around.

“I’m the big spoon tonight” you said sternly and she snorted “Romanoff”

“So bossy, damn” but she turned around and your tiny body wrapped around her “You don’t even-“

“Shut up” you grunted and kissed her temple “You are mine to take care of tonight. Remember the first time you slept here?” Natasha hummed and your fingers caressed her arm tenderly “I told you that we would pretend. Tonight we don’t”

“What do you mean?” she whispered and you smiled as she looked over her shoulder. You pecked her lips and you brushed your nose against hers.

“From now on we don’t need to pretend, Nat” you pecked her lips again “Now it’s real”

And Natasha for once was grateful that her mother forced her to live with you because as much as she wished to take credit for whatever you two were feeling, Melina didn’t have that much power.

Because you were right. Now, it was very real.

———

For more chapters, visit: series masterlist

[natsarrownecklacx]

Bittersuite

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Reader

Word count: 3,865

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, learner of New York’s most infamous mob, goes on a night out looking for a little stress relief.

Warnings: Minors DNI, Smut, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, Natasha has a dick, dry humping, strip club, erotic dancing. Daddy kink. Choking kink. Praise kink. Overstimulation. Slight dub con I think. This is mostly filth I’ll be so honest.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

Natasha Romanoff, one of the more well known gang leaders in New York city, understandably has a stressful life. She can deal with it, has become so well adjusted to it she barely takes much notice anymore.

But on certain days tension will not leave her body, her mind refusing to quiet. On those days, Natasah becomes more snappy than usual, her tolerance for mistakes nowhere to be found. It made her own life harder, along with the lives of anyone who’d be brave enough to be in her presence.

To combat this, Natasha’s right hand man, Clint, had suggested she and her gang have a weekly “destress outing”. His pitch was that it would improve work relations and morale. A happy worker is a productive worker, he’d said with a smirk. Really, he could just see how tightly wound up his friend was and wanted to help. That and he also thought it would be fun. Two birds, one stone.

Usually they would go to Natasha’s favourite spot, the wandering widow. Tonight however, when the group of thugs arrived at the well frequented venue, they found it closed. Natasha did her best to contain her frustration, finding the thought of missing her one time in a week to actually destress, quite distressing. Funny, she thinks to herself, but finding no murmur in it at all.

Tilting her head back she lets out a groan, prompting her right hand man to whip out his phone for a quick google search. Thankfully he found a five star strip club, no less than a ten minute walk away. No one wants to be dealing with a cranky Natasha for the next week. They begin the journey with little to no complaints, seeing as this particular club, the bittersuite, comes with the promise of added services if only the right price is paid.

Natasha enters the building ahead of the group, leading them inside with practiced confidence. In one quick moment she takes in everything in her surroundings, the bar, the stage, the booths pressed against the back walls, the music to fit the atmosphere. Everything seemed perfect for the night they all had in mind.

As she scans the room her dark green eyes land on you, scantily clad in black lace lingeries, the bra fitting perfectly around your breast, covering you enough to keep you just under the line of modesty but still having it be revealing and alluring. Your matching panties leave little to the imagination, shaping your ass heavily, black heels to complement the look.

Natasha feels her mouth water, letting her eyes drift over you and swallows hard. Clint nudges her shoulder and nods towards a booth in the back, close enough to the stage they can see, far enough away they won’t be bothered. She nods her approval and follows the man to the booth, temporarily losing track of you.

It isn’t hard to find you again in the packed room, your charming smile and laugh paired with your sparkling eyes drawing Natasha in more than she thought she would be. She watches you as you move throughout the room working the crowd as you go. She orders herself a drink, sipping away as she follows you with her eyes, readily ignoring anyone else around her.

You seem genuinely interested in the people you’re talking to. Friendly, open posture, polite smiles, even a hint of genuine laughter.

It’s the way you squeeze a person's forearm every so often that lets Natasha know most of it is an act, a facade all in the effort of getting more tips while performing. She has to applaud you on your efforts, seeing for herself, even across the room, that you’re very good at what you do.

The music for your intro starts and Natasha watches with keen interest as you bid your goodbyes to the people you’re speaking with and make your way up to the stage.

You move confidently to the beat of the music, with the skill and beauty to back it up. Each and every pair of eyes in the room is glued to you, the way your body sways and grinds to the music.

About half way through the song you make it down on your hands and knees on the stage, pausing for a second to flash a smile at the audience before dipping your chest towards the stage, revealing more of your cleavage to them.

An audible groan sounds around the room, your eyes snapping up when you hear it. Coincidentally, or fated by the gods, your eyes lock with those of a red haired gang leader sitting in the back booth.

She’s stunning, possibly the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Her wavy red hair rests hotly around her shoulders, a stark contrast to the plane white shirt left all but half open covering her body. Your eyes trail to her pants clad legs before moving to her face, revealing green eyes swimming in lust.

She notices the look of pure awe on your face and smirks, lifting her whisky glass to you.

You keep your eyes on hers as you drop your chest slowly toward the stage, lifting your ass teasingly in the air before sliding the whole way down and kick rolling yourself into a standing position to finish out the performance.

The song ends and Natasha watches as you make your way off the stage, a cute blush adorning your face as cheers and wolf whistles are heard throughout the whole room. She watches as you make your way towards a blond woman, her arms open and waiting for you to step into. You hug her and take a step back, keeping yourself at a respectful distance.

Her eyes stay fixed to you as the woman flirts with you, as you act all shy and affected by her words. Natasha can tell it’s all fake, just more of you trying to earn your money, working for it, so she allows it, until the blond woman leans in the whisper in your ear and gestures towards the back room.

Now that Natasha can’t have, not after you made her as hard as you did. No one else would be touching you tonight but her, she’d be making sure of that.

She stands, downing the rest of her drink in one go and making her way swiftly toward you. You don’t flinch when you feel her hand on your back, nor do you pull away, you simply flick your eyes toward her, an easy, sultry smile sliding onto your face when you see her.

You keep your body angled toward the blond woman and you can see that clearly pisses her off. But Carol is one of your highest paying clients and you’re not about to fuck that up for this woman, no matter how hot the red head is.

She slides her arm around you, leaning in close enough for you to hear her mumble hotly against your ear. “That was quite the performance, sweetheart.” Natasha takes note of your body language and smirks, finding your self assurance amusing, she knows you’re still playing the game, still working the room.

“How about an encore, just the two of us.” She suggests boldly, not caring who hears her, or for the blond woman who seems to be annoyed by her words.

“Actually.” The blond buts in, Natasha’s jaw clenching at the interruption.. “Y/n and I were just about to-“

“Y/n.” Natasha cuts her off, her eyes never leaving you. “Would make more money with me in an hour than she would with you in months.”

This catches your attention, your body turning slightly toward Natasha as you level her with a look of pure curiosity.

“How would you even know what I pay her?” Carol interjects, annoyance and indignity clear in her voice.

Without hesitating Natasha pulls a cool million out of her pocket, flashing it to not just Carol but to you too. You see the large amount of money and feel your knees go weak. That could set you up for months.

“Well? What do you say, sweetheart?” Natasha asks, keeping the wad of cash clear in your view, a teasing smirk on her face.

You turn to Carol, your eyes pleading for understanding. “I’m sorry.” You say, a hint of shock in your voice. “I can’t pass this up.”

Carol scoffs and walks away angrily, knowing she can’t compete with Natasha financially.

Natasha smirks and wraps her arms around your waist, pulling your body flush with hers, a lustful look in her eyes. “Smart choice, sweetheart.”

You smile up at her, your eyes narrowed slightly at her cocky confidence. She may have the money to get your attention but that doesn’t mean she’ll be any good with your time.

Feeling the sudden need to knock her down a few pegs you gently lean up to press a kiss to her cheek and trail your lips across to her ear, missing the way her eyes flutter shut for a second as you whisper.

“See that body guard over there?” Natasha nods, her eyes now locked on the body builder of a man standing next to the exit door. “If you stiff me he’ll break your legs, he won’t care that you’re a woman.”

Natasha swallows, the idea of broken legs not a pleasant one, but still, she wouldn’t never take what you’re offering and leave without paying.

You pull away from her then, a teasing glint in your eyes. “He’s a real feminist like that.”

Natasha takes a deep breath, trying to quickly regain composure as she smirks. “If you feel even half as good as you look then I say money well spent, sweetheart.”

You smile, skeptically, at the older woman and blush. She really has a way with words. You just hope she’s got the skill to go with it. That, and you really hope you didn’t just ditch one of your best paying clients for someone who won’t pay their debts.

Carol was a mediocre fuck at best, but at least she always payed well. You take the red heads hand in your own and turn towards the back rooms, pulling her along behind you as you go.

You nod to the bouncer guarding the door, his eyes scanning Natasha and looking to you for another nod of approval before opening the doors for you both. Once inside your designated room you lead Natasha inside and lock the door.

You turn back to the red head, already sitting on the bed with a tent in her pants and smile. “Come here baby.” She gently commands, patting her lap.

You make your way over to her slowly, an intentional but subtle sway in your hips as you go. Your eyes glance down at the bulge in her pants, bigger than you’ve seen in a while. Your mouth waters. Maybe tonight you won’t have to fake an organism.

Your eyes move up to her green ones, the smirk on her face doubled in size as she clocks where your eyes had been.

She pats her lap again, this time reaching a hang out for you to take as she guides you onto her lap.

Her mouth waters at the weight of you on top of her concealed bulge. Her hands fall to your hips and her head to your shoulder as she guides your hips over her hard on, her hips ever so slightly lifting to meet yours as she groans.

You fight the urge to laugh, a poor attempt you realise she stills lifting her gaze to meet yours with a quizzical look.

“I’m sorry.” You say, somewhat sincerely. “I just- I didn’t think you’d want to use our time in here like this… with you coming in your pants.”

Natasha releases a breath, one of her hands coming up to move a stray piece of hair from your face. “Oh baby.” She whispers. “I’m going to have you in every way imaginable. This is just the start.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Usually when clients asked for your time in a private room they just wanted to cum. Once, maybe twice, rarely ever a third time. It hadn’t occurred to you that she might have any better stamina than the other people you took back here. But apparently you were wrong because judging by the way she’s looking at you right now she’s going to be fucking you till the sun comes up.

“Plus.” She adds, quietly. “I have no shame about how badly I want you. You make me feel desperate.” She says, her eyes drinking in your half naked body as her hands run over your warm skin. “Unravelled.”

Her hips start to pick up their movements beneath you again and you can’t help but rock against her on your own this time. She smirks. Her hands return possessively to their place on your hips, guiding you. “Hmm, that’s it baby.” Natasha groans, her fingers digging into your skin as your arms wrap around her shoulders. “Just like that. Take what you need. Good girl.”

Your own moans and whimpers fill the air as you chase your release. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been this close to an orgasm, the realization makes you desperate, your movements picking up on the older woman's lap. Natasha gives one harsh thrust up and comes in her underwear, the sight of her coming undone beneath you triggering your owe release. You come, hard, on her lap, the outline of her cock pressing deliciously into your pussy as you grind down.

The sound of laboured breaths fill the room, your body slumped over Natasha’s as she tightens her arms around you, pulling you closer. She waits until she feels your breath even out before lifting you off of her, urgency clear in her strength as she maneuvers you onto the bed, your back pressed against the sheets and her muscular body between your legs.

Her mouth latches onto the delicate skin of your neck, a gasp leaving your lips as she bites down. “No marks.” You whine, feeling her growl against your pulse. Her mouth moves down your body, taking each of your nipples in her mouth and delighting in the feeling of you squirming beneath her, the sounds you make music to her ears.

She slides your panties off gently, as if revealing a gormet meal. Her lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently. Your body reacts instinctively, without your permission. A pitiful whine passes your lips, your back arching off the bed, hips rising toward her mouth for more. Your thighs threaten to close around her head, but her strong arms pull them apart. “Be a good girl, y/n.” She says between licking and sucking your clit. “Just lie there and take it for me.”

Your orgasm sneaks up on you much faster than the first, your body still alight with fire from the first time you came in the night. Natasha purposefully neglects your entrance, only teasing the dripping hole a few times before refocusing her efforts on your bundle of nerves. “Please.” You gasp as she teases you again, her tongue flattening over your entrance, tasting you from the source but refusing to dip inside. “Oh, god. Please.”

Natasha chuckles, her mouth parting from you long enough to tease. The sight of her, between your legs, pupils blown wide and lower face glistening with your arousal is enough to have your breath catching in her lungs. But then she opens her mouth and you're not sure you’ll ever breathe right again. “Daddy wants to see you cum just like this, baby. All desperate and aching to have your hole filled. You can do that for me right?”

“Yes.” You pant, with little thought to the word or what it means. Natasha’s hand slides up your body, slow and deliberate, her eyes dilating further as she watches you arch into her feather light touch, only for you to whimper as she takes your nipple between her fingers and pinches roughly. “Yes, who?”

You squirm beneath her touch, the pain moulding with pleasure in a way that has your brain short circuiting. “Yes, daddy. I’ll be good for you.”

Natasha only hums her approval before dropping her mouth back to your clit, one arm holding you against the mattress while the other plays with your tits. You come with her mouth on you, moans of “daddy” crashing with curses and pleas.

Natasha doesn’t allow you a moment of peace before you feel two of her fingers dive into you. Her body is hovering over you, eyes locked on the way your face screws up with overstimulated pleasure. You cry out, hands flying to her shoulders in an attempt to stay grounded. “Jesus- fuck!” You scream, her maddening pace meaning your barley over one organism as another builds.

“I thought this is what you wanted, baby?” Natasha teases, voice filled with faux innocence. Her fingers curl inside you, finding that specific spot as her palm drags messily over your clit. “Don’t you want to cum on daddy's fingers?”

Your thighs shake on either side of Natasha's body, your muscles tensing as you gasp for air. “I do!” You sob, pulling Natasha down to your lips, hers hovering just above you. Just enough to feel them graze over your own. “Please daddy. I want to cum for you.”

Natasha smiles, a chuckle passing her lips as she drags them over your neck, barely touching the skin there. “I can feel you shaking.” She laughs. “Is it that good?”

“Yes!”

Natasha’s teeth clamp down on your shoulder, the harshness of it sending a jolt straight to your core. “Yes daddy! It feels so good. You feel so good!”

Natasha moans against your skin and you watch as she hastily fumbles with the belt on her pants pulling it and her trousers down skillfully with one hand and grinding her hard on against your ass. The sight of her, desperate and grinding just under where she needs to be while she has so much power over you pushes you over the edge, your vision blurring as you let out a guttural moan, nails digging into the woman’s back.

Natasha takes time to look over you, flat on your back for her, panting and spent. Your hair is a mess, your body covered in sweat, your pupils blown wide as you watch her rub herself against you. It’s all of ten seconds later before she’s lunging at you, covering your body completely with her own as she lines herself up with your pussy.

“Fuck I’m going to take you for myself. No one will have you once I’m done with you. You’ll be mine. Only mine.”

Natasha pushes herself inside and you cry out, not used to such a delicious feeling. “Wait-“

A firm hand is placed over your mouth, stopping you from speaking and all but cutting off your air supply as your eyes widen in shock and arousal.

“If the next words to come out of your mouth aren’t “Daddy please” I’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.” She growls.

You moan against her hand and nod, tears filling your eyes as she removes the offending limb and places it on your hips using is as an anchor to push into you deeper.

“Please, Daddy.” You beg, unsure of what you're asking for but you're so certain it feels good to beg for whatever it is regardless.

Natasha slides herself fully inside of you, letting out a sigh of relief and kissing your temple. The gentle act surprises you, considering how rough she’d been only seconds ago. “You feel like heaven baby. Are you okay?” She asks, her eyes meeting your own as she waits for an honest answer before doing anything else.

You nod, your own voice failing you. “No, baby.” Natasha says, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “Daddy wants to hear you say it.”

You whine, words seeming so far out of your grasp. “Please.” You beg, lifting your hips to hers and fighting against yourself to do it again when Natasha buckles above you, a load moan falling past her lips and her head falling into the crook of your neck. “Good girl.” She grunts, moving her hips to slide out of you, leaving only the tip inside before sliding back in and bottoming out in one thrust.

“Daddy.” You whimper, nails digging into her shoulders. Natasha sighs, the warmth of you surrounding her pulling her into a state of bliss she’s not used to. “My good girl.” She growls, feeling something altogether feral take over her. “Only mine.” Her pace picks up, her dick sliding into you in a way that draws out both her pleasure and her own, ensuring you feel every inch, every twitch, every possessive pump of her inside you.

“When I’m done with you, you’ll belong to me do you understand.” She growls, one hand sneaking between your bodies to rub circles around your clit. You cry out, back arching off the bed, every sensation becoming too much.

“Ngh- daddy plea-“

“Shhh. Baby just let daddy use you. Let me have it. All of you.” The noise that passes your lips is altogether foreign to you. You sound broken. Desperate for reprieve and so much more all at once. It’s shattering. It’s beautiful.

Natasha moans, her hand moving from your clit to your throat, holding you down. “Just take it sweet girl.” She grunts, feeling her climax closing in. “God- I’m gonna cum in you. No one will ever touch you again. You’re mine.”

You nod along to yer words, mindlessly agreeing to anything she wants, everything, so long as she doesn’t stop. “Daddy I’m gonna come.” You whine out, feeling yourself clench around her.

“Go on baby.” She pants above you, her grip on your throat tightening, her eyes locked on the way your own roll to the back of your head. “Cum around your daddy’s cock like a good little slut.”

You do, you cum with her cock buried inside of you, feeling her spill into you, her thrusts not slowing, drawing out the pleasure. It’s not until you whimper and try to push her away that she stops.

Natasha pulls out of you slowly, mindful of your oversensative pussy. You whimper at the empty feeling it leaves you with and Natasha is on you in seconds. She rolls you to be lying down on top of her, your face pressed against the soft of her chest, her arms holding you close as she whispers to you.

“You such a good girl, baby.” “You did such a good job for me.” “Shh I’ve got you, your okay.”

You lie in her arms for a while, feeling your body get heavier and your eyes begin to close as she runs her hands over your back soothingly. “Sleep, sweet girl.” Natasha mumbles, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“We have all the time in the world.”

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n- This has been sitting in my drafts for far to long, perfect or not it is definitely time to get it out of the drafts. I am genuinely half asleep doing this last read through so please excuse any nonsense.

[whre4wanda-deactivated20251023]

Professors Obsessions

Prompt: G!P Professor Romanoff x Camgirl reader

Warning: Smut. Forbidden relationships, voyeurism, masturbation (r and N), Oral (N and R), fingering, degrading, praising, darcyphillia, protected sex which then turns into unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, multiple positions, cum swallowing, Natasha lowkey being obsessed. It's just pure filth.

Guys it's filthy. You've been warned.

Summary- Your professor is icy, brilliant, and untouchable. You're certain that she hates you, and she is certain that she hates you too until one day, she discovers your secret life on OnlyFans. What starts as curiosity spirals into obsession, anonymous tips, and a dangerous game of desire that neither of you can resist.

Your pov:

The first day you stepped into Professor Romanoff's class, you had a feeling that she hated you. Maybe hate is a strong word but she sure as hell didn't like you. To be fair, you did not like her either.

Lie.

You pretty much had a huge crush on your professor from that day onwards, I mean what wasn't there to like? The woman was absolutely breathtaking. Her green eyes were so captivating, her lips were always coated in that signature red lipstick she loved wearing, her tailored suits were designed to fit her body, red hair always styled to perfection, her cologne that managed to wrap around you whenever you were near her or sometimes, it even lingered in the air when she was gone. Her voice, fuck, her accented voice that always managed to send a thrill down your spine whenever she spoke. Natasha Romanoff was a hot woman, poised and so untouchable.

Many students whispered how she came from money and owned properties. Multiple. How she probably taught Russian Lit for the fun of it but probably had some Vila in Italy that she disappeared to during breaks. But as always, with admiration, comes disdain. And that is what you're sure the woman had for you. Whenever you were in her class, her gaze made you feel unworthy, like you didn't belong in her class. When you raised your hand in her class to answer a question, she'd simply skip past you for other students. Or when she did give you the opportunity to answer, she'd either roll her eyes or she would dissect your answer in front of your classmates which made you feel dumb. The woman practically picked on you daily, critiqued your work and made it seem like a waste of her time, and it fucking infuriated you.

You hated her. You wanted her. But still, you hated her.

But you hated what you were doing to survive more. You told yourself that it was just temporary, that it was helping you survive until you got a better job. Keeping up with college expenses like tuitions, textbooks, groceries, clothing and food was tough and let's just say that your part time job wasn't offering much, hell it wasn't even covering the expenses for your textbooks alone. So you did the next best thing. OnlyFans. Awesome right?

You've always been told by people that you had an amazing body in passing ( your exes, acquaintances, friends, hell even your best friends Darcy and Kate told you that but they were as high as a kite the day they said that). So why not use that to your advantage? You hid your face, of course you did! You might have been really desperate  but you sure as hell weren't stupid. Whenever you had your live streams or whenever you recorded yourself, you carefully angled your camera so that it only showed your body. From your neck downwards. Besides your viewers didn't care for that, just what you did and that was enough. And you would like to think the mystery of wondering who it was, kept them all thrilled.

Spoiler alert: It did. Because they always kept coming back.

Sure, your dignity may have gone down the hill the first time you posted a video, but once the money came in and the bills were off of your back, who the hell were you to complain? As far as they know, you were just some random chick with a killer body who had an OnlyFans page and you made sure that you were anonymous, secretive and everyone who knew you would never stumble upon your page. Or so you thought.

_

_

"We're thinking of going to James' party tonight, wanna come with y/n?" Kate asked you while you mindlessly tossed grapes into your mouth.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stay home tonight." You mumbled while tossing another grape into your mouth. Darcy grumbled before pulling the box of grapes away from your reach,

"Oh come on!" Kat whined.

"What could you possibly be doing in your room that's so important, that you can't even hang out with us?" Wouldn't you like to know. You grabbed the box out of Darcy's hands and she sent you a glare.

"I'm busy with school work."

Darcy huffed while Kate rolled her eyes. They weren't believing a thing that came out of your mouth.

"Dude you've been busy with school work for months now." Kate mumbled and Darcy agreed.

"Well excuse me for caring about my education. You know some of us aren't trust fund babies, no offense." You shrugged your shoulders before placing the box aside.

"You know staying in your dorm room will never get you laid." Darcy's comment had you rolling your eyes. She tended to say stupid things sometimes. Most times.

"I need to finish Professor Romanoff's essay. You know she's on my ass like ninety percent of the time."

"You're imagining things. She's like that with everyone."

"That's absolutely not true Kate. Name one person she picks on, every single day besides me." Kate was quiet for a moment and you nodded your head.

"That's what I thought Bishop."

"Tell you what, I'll go out with you guys the next party that's thrown, I swear on my life."

"Well that's very convenient because there's another one on Friday. Guess you're tagging along with us." Darcy grinned and you sighed.

"Great. Can't wait."

_

_

You sat criss-cross on your twin bed with a robe covering your body, shuffling comfortably before trying to set your camera to the best angle. The fairy lights you hung across the wall months ago, now hung skew thanks to the current position you were in. But today, instead of just having the natural light accompanied by your fairy lights, you decided to make use of the LED strips that you rarely used.

You fumbled with the remote, trying to find the perfect color for your live stream that day. Red was too cliche in your opinion, blue wasn't working well for you today and green? Well who the fuck uses green? After fumbling with the DIY control switch, you settled on purple. It was cute, fitting and it made your body look Sinful, oddly enough.

You looked around your bed. It wasn't that tidy but it was still inviting. Next to you, laid an arrangement of toys you'd be using. It wasn't much, but at least you'd finish quicker compared to using just your fingers. You still had no idea which one you'd use, instead you'd let your viewers pick. You rarely went live these days. Instead, you'd opted to post videos on your site, with small teasers on Twitter so it would keep all of your viewers fed while you dealt with school, stress and cramming for tests.

After posting a tweet, that you'd be going live earlier today, many of your followers went insane in your comments. And you had a feeling you'd get more tips than usual for this specific stream, especially after not being that active, because tonight felt different.

Your laptop screen glowed with the familiar streaming dashboard. Notifications were already pinging as subscribers saw the announcement that you were live. A flood of usernames filled the chat within seconds, excitement spilling into words:

"Holy shit, she's back."

"Finally live again???"

"We missed you, angel."

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair, robe slipping off your shoulders to reveal the black bralette and thong you'd picked out.

"Guess who's back, babies." you teased, voice low, sultry.

"Been a while, huh? I know, I know, I've been a bad girl, leaving you starving."

The comments exploded. Tips began rolling in just from your voice, from the tease of you running your hands down your stomach, stopping just shy of your panties.

You stretched your legs out on the bed, the hem of your robe falling away, leaving you almost fully exposed.

More tips were piling in, and you decided that the toys next to you were not worth it. So slowly, deliberately, you pulled a different toy from the nightstand drawer, a sleek wand vibrator that hummed when you flicked it on. You held it up to the camera, just chest-down, letting the faint buzz fill the silence. Perfect.

"Thought I'd make it up to you. " you murmured, dragging the toy over your inner thighs, not touching where they wanted yet.

"Think I should let you watch me fall apart tonight hm?" The chat begged.

You pressed the toy against your panties, a sharp hiss escaping your throat before you could stop it. The fabric instantly dampened as the vibrations sank deep, and you shifted your hips, grinding just enough to keep the ache building.

"Fuck!" The moan slipped out unplanned, breathy and sharp, and you let your head fall back even though they couldn't see your face.

"Fuck, I missed this... missed you."

Your free hand tugged the bralette down, exposing your breasts to the camera. You pinched your nipple between your fingers, rolling it as the wand hummed harder against your clit. Your body arched off the bed, desperate, and the comments blurred into a frenzy.

"She's so wet already."

"Shit, I can hear it."

"Harder, please, fuck harder."

And you gave it to them. You pushed the toy aside just long enough to slide your panties down, tossing them out of frame, before pressing the wand directly against your clit. The jolt of sensation was almost too much, you cried out, voice cracking, thighs trembling as you spread them wider for the camera.

The sound of your slick filled the room, obscene and perfect.

"Shit oh-fuck, it's so good... " you whimpered, grinding against the toy like you couldn't get enough. Your toes curled, back arching as your orgasm tore through you quicker than you expected. You didn't hold back, you let them hear every moan, every gasp, the shaky sob of relief as your body shook against the sheets.

Even when it ended, you didn't move the toy away. You held it there, overstimulating yourself, thighs twitching uncontrollably, pussy leaking while the chat went wild.

Your voice was wrecked when you finally spoke again, chest heaving.

"Fuck... I think I just made up for lost time, yeah?" Hearts, tips, and desperate comments flooded the screen.

"Think I should give you guys another one?" You joke with a weak, breathless laugh, while pulling the robe loosely back over yourself, the toy still buzzing faintly in your hand.

Your chest is still heaving, skin flushed with heat, when you reach over to end the stream. But the chat won't let you. Tips are still pouring in, desperate messages scrolling so fast you can barely read them.

"One more."

"Please round two."

"Don't stop yet."

You laugh again, breathlessly, brushing sweat-damp curls away from your neck. Your thighs are still trembling, clit throbbing from the intensity of the wand. You should stop. You should. But the sight of the tip counter climbing, the sound of their begging, it pushes something in you.

"Greedy fuckers," you murmur into the mic, voice low, wrecked from moaning. "Fine. But if I do another round... Don't you think it's fair I switch toys hmm?" More tips are coming in now and you let out a pleased hum.

You push the wand aside, legs still spread wide, slick glistening in the soft glow of your dorm's LED lights. From your drawer, you pull out something thicker, your clear dildo, curved just right, veins ridged along the length. You hold it up just enough for the camera to catch the shape, your face still cropped out.

The chat explodes again.

You tease yourself first, dragging the tip along your folds, coating it with your wetness. You moan at the contrast, cool silicone against your overheated skin, and circle it around your clit just to make them squirm.

"Hm... already so wet," you breathe, letting the dildo push just an inch inside before pulling it back out.

"You've got me dripping for you."

Your hand steadies on your thigh as you push deeper, the toy stretching you open slowly, deliciously. You sink it halfway, groaning into the mic as your walls clench around the girth. The viewers beg for more, the screen blurring with filth, and you give it to them, sliding it all the way in with a shaky cry.

"Fuck, fuck, oh my g-"

You start riding it, hips rolling up to meet every thrust, tits bouncing with the motion. The wet sound of your pussy taking the toy echoes in the quiet dorm, obscene and perfect. You can feel yourself building already, the overstimulation from earlier making your body hypersensitive.

You grab your phone from the nightstand, hold it above your stomach, recording a close-up of the toy disappearing inside you for your Twitter fans. The comments go wild, begging you to upload it later.

Your moans get louder, needier, until you're fucking yourself with abandon, the bed creaking beneath you. Your free hand finds your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles in sync with the thrusts.

Your orgasm slams into you hard, tearing a scream from your throat as your thighs clamp around the toy. Your whole body jerks, back arching, toes curling as you gush around the dildo, slick coating your thighs and sheets. You leave it inside you as you come down, panting into the mic, trembling so hard you can barely hold yourself up.

After a long pause, you let out a shaky laugh.

"Hope you're fucking satisfied now." The chat blows up again, hearts and tips exploding across the screen. You pull the toy out slowly, the sight of your cum dripping all over it enough to make them lose their minds for one last time.

"Don't say I never spoil you." you whispered, before clicking End Stream.

The camera light flicked off, leaving your dorm in silence once again. Your body was still thrumming, your sheets damp with sweat and release. You hadn't shown your face, not once, but it didn't matter. They'd be replaying this stream in their heads for weeks.

And you, blissfully unaware, had no idea who was going to stumble across your page next.

_

_

You were currently doodling in your note book before someone slammed their hands on your desk. You looked up to see your professor looking down at you. And she wasn't thrilled at all.

"Care to tell me what I just explained Ms Y/L/N?" She asked with a tilt of her head and you sat up.

"Uhm, I didn't hear you." Someone on your left snickered, she sent them a glare that had them ducking their head before turning back to face you.

"Of course you didn't, because you're too busy doodling in my class. If you think you're such an artist than you should've taken an art major." You swallow thickly, face warm from the humiliation.

"I apologize, it won't happen again." Natasha scoffs before walking off. From the corner of your eye, you find Kate giving you a sympathetic look while Darcy makes a cross-eyed face and you chuckle.

An hour later, the lecture that had been dragging finally ends and you begin to pack your books and laptop into your bag. You sling that bag onto your shoulder but your professors voice stops any further movements.

"Y/n. Stay behind." She mumbles from her table and you fight back an eye roll. Both of your friends send you sympathetic glances before leaving the lecture hall.

You wait for the last student to leave, before you walk down towards her table.

"Yes?" The redhead finally glances at you.

"What is this?" You raise a brow at the file in her hand.

"My essay."

"I'm aware of that. But what is this? The content in this? It's rubbish. Have you not been paying attention to me for the past few months y/n? Am I that boring that you fail to grasp simple knowledge."

"I did try me best with the-"

"Well that's not enough." She throws the file down onto the table with a force that has it sliding onto the floor.

"Rewrite that. And I expect it to be on my desk in a week."

"You cannot be serious."

"Do I look like I'm laughing y/n?"

"But I don't see you doing that to other students, this is-"

"You aren't other students. You can leave now." She motions for you to leave and you scoff before picking it your file off and storming out of her class. god you really hated that woman.

_

_

That same evening, Natasha sat on her expensive couch, a glass of scotch in her hand as she mindlessly scrolled through her phone. She was supposed to be grading papers. But after marking a few papers that gave her a migraine, she set the heap of papers aside before pouring herself a drink that would nurse said headache.

She wasn't really one to find herself on different Twitter posts, let alone different pages. But there was always a time for new things right? And some feeling had been dragging her towards a certain page. The woman sipped onto her drink, scrolling through pages, liking something funny or relatable until somehow she found herself on a page. She was about to scroll, she should've scrolled, but something about the handle drew her in.

The handle looked awfully familiar, so she clicked onto the profile and she narrowed her eyes to get a proper look. She grabbed her glasses that were placed next to her before putting them on. On her screen, was some girl. Faceless and anonymous. But she knew that body.

"No." She whispered to herself. It couldn't be. Natasha scrolled down the page, finding suggestive pictures of this girl half naked or arching her back. She found tweets and videos. Multiple. Her eyes dragged down the females body. It looked so familiar.

She shook her head, maybe she had been imagining things. That was until she landed on a thumbnail of some video, and she was correct. It was you. How could she tell? She saw the tattoo on your collarbone, the one that she once caught a glance off when your sweater had slipped down your shoulder, when she shouldn't have been staring at her student and thinking the thoughts she'd been thinking that moment.

The ring on your finger, she knew it was yours. You always played with that ring when you weren't paying attention in her class or when you were anxious. The small mole on your shoulder that she'd once seen, when you'd decided to wear a spaghetti strap shirt because the heat had been blazing that week.

That page, you didn't just resemble her student, you were her student. Her pulse quickened, a sensation unfamiliar and sharp. Her professorly composure, so meticulously maintained in lectures, wavered just a fraction as she leaned closer, inspecting the images and videos. The screen glowed. Notifications popped up. Comments from you, interaction from fans.

She swallowed hard. Her professional boundaries, her reputation, all of it screamed at her to stop. And yet... she couldn't. Somehow she'd found a teaser of the live stream that had been posted a few days ago. That same one where you'd fucked yourself senseless with two different toys before calling it a night.

She couldn't help it. Her airpods had been sitting carelessly next to her. She slipped them in and played the video. She watched the first clip, the one where you held the wand, pressing it onto your clit until you sobbed. Her cock twitched. And she fought the urge to handle it. To touch herself.

The sounds of your moans filled her ears. Fuck, you sounded so addicting. She watched the way you clenched the sheets beneath you, how your clit throbbed when you pulled the wand away, how your moans bounced off of the walls, hips chasing the vibrations from your toy.

Somehow, Natasha found her hand inside her sweatpants, palming her semi hard cock. She should have left, should have blocked and returned to grading her papers. But she didn't, she couldn't. Not when your thighs were twitching, and not when she saw your pussy leaking. She wondered how you'd feel. How your walls would feel wrapped around her cock as she drove into you with speed.

And then the video stopped. She groaned in frustration. But there was another video posted the same day just below the video she had been watching. She clicked play and saw you holding the clear dildo. Her jaw was slack as she watched you trail that toy in between your soaking folds. She watched the head of the toy enter you. But the sound you let out, the gasp that fell from your lips sent a thrill down to her spine.

Your pussy practically swallowed the toy as you began to push it in and out. She watched as your fingers tugged your nipples, how your tits bounced as you rode the toy like your life depended on it. She wondered what faces you'd be making while you pounded the toy into your cunt. And then, fuck, and then you picked your phone up, moving it closer to your pussy so she could get a better view and she was so grateful for that. She watched the slick dripping from your cunt onto your sheets, you moaned loudly and then the video stopped.

Natasha groaned again, but then her hand hovered over the link that was on your page. She shouldn't. It was against her morals. If anyone found out, her career could be over. But then, the sight of your hips grinding against the toy, came into view and all her morals left her brain. She pressed onto the link, and by the end of the night, she'd made an account and now you had a brand new anonymous subscriber.

And Natasha? Well she had just experienced one of the best orgasms that she had in months all thanks to you.

_

_

The weekend went by very quickly. Now you found yourself walking into your Russian Lit class. Natasha was writing something on the board when you walked in with Kate and Darcy. You took your usual seat at the back, waiting for the rest of the students to pile in before the class started. Natasha turned around, gaze sweeping across the class before she found you. You expected her usual cold stare, and it was there but something was different.

She stared at you longer than usual. Her gaze was similar to that of a predator watching it's prey. You looked down, face heating up from the intensity of that look. The rest of the class went by just like that, with your professor watching you. Everytime you looked up, she was already staring at you. And she didn't look away. No, but you caught the corners of her mouth twitching into a smirk.

You looked down again. Weird. Class ended and you packed your belongings before walking down to her table.

"Here's my essay Ms Romanoff. I hope it's good enough." She glanced at the file before looking up at you.

"Hm. Let's hope so." Natasha looked at you once again, that same dark look from before and you cleared your throat before leaving. You felt hot. Hot and bothered and your thighs were probably covered with slick. Man, you needed to get a hold of yourself.

_

_

Bouncing in between bodies inside some packed club on a Friday is not what you expected to be doing. After your hectic week, your best friends dragged you out to a club, claiming that you needed to get out more. You being you, hesitated, fought a little too until Kate threatened to throw your favorite crisp white hoodie into mud. You may believe that the raven haired girl was "all bark no bite" but you o fed witnessed her throw Darcy's favorite pair of Steve Madden heels into the garbage can outside the dorm rooms because Darcy did not want to do the dishes in freshman year.

You bumped into some couple who only scoffed at you before they went back to kissing. Darcy and Kate dragged you towards the bar area, where they both plopped down onto chairs before ordering shots.

"Come on really? Shots?"

"Yes, we need some liquor in our bodies!" Kate yelled excitedly while her hands waved in the air.

The bartender slid your drinks over before moving to attend to the people next to you. Your friends downed their shots, before ordering more. You watched them drink like they had never drank before, and you knew that evening, that you would have to take care of them afterwards.

Minutes after, the two were on the dance floor, having the time of their lives, screaming on top of the music while you sat by the bar, laughing at them.

"Not much of a dancer I see." That's the least expected voice you expect to hear that moment. You turn your head sideways to find your professor staring at you. Your mouth parts before you stammer out a response before she could give one of her witty comments about you being to slow to grasp a sentence.

"Yeah I'm not."

"Oh? Hm, interesting." She sips her drink, what you assume is to be a glass of bourbon, before she looks at you again. She smirks.

"When I look at you, I imagine you being a...performer. Like you belong in front of a camera." There's a second meaning to her words, but you're too unfocused to grasp it. You chuckle nervously, feeling intimidated under her scrutinizing eyes.

"Don't really like attention."

"Oh?" She mumbles, as if she's genuinely shocked.

"Hm, not really my cup of tea being here." Natasha turns to face you fully now.

"Hm. What is your cup of tea then?"

"Being home alone. Time to myself. I like that."

"I bet you do."

"Excuse me?" You turn to face her but Natasha's already placing a hundred dollar bill next to her empty glass.

"Nice seeing you y/n. I hope you do get you're alone time."Again, the way she says it, is like she's implying something that you can't quite name.

"This covers mine and hers." She motions at the bartender who nods his head. Natasha glances at you for a final time. She looks at you from head to toe. From your perfect curls hanging down your neck, to your plump lips, your cleavage and down to your legs. She smirks then turns around and leaves. Weird.

_

_

You'd been on edge all day. In class, you couldn't shake the way Professor Romanoff's eyes kept finding you. Normally she was dismissive, cold, like she had no patience for you. But today? Every time you looked up, you found her gaze lingering, her mouth twitching like she was holding something back. She didn't say anything to you, didn't even mention anything about what happened at the club, but something was really off. You chalked it up to paranoia, pushed it away, buried yourself in notes. You're probably just over thinking about it.

But later, when the dorm was quiet that night, you decided to go live. It had been a while, and the pressure building in your chest the need for release, for validation, for that flood of comments and money, was gnawing at you.

You set up carefully, as you always did. Face cropped out. Just showing your neck and the seductive movement of your body. Tonight, you wanted to play with two toys, a slim pink vibrator for your clit and a thicker black dildo you could ride until your legs gave out.

The chat blew up the second you started, your regulars popping in with thirsty greetings.

"Missed you, baby."

"Finally! Been starving for you."

"Ride that toy for us."

But then something different happened. A new subscriber joined l, anonymous, no username attached. Just a blank icon. But their presence was impossible to miss because the first thing they did was tip you $500 in one drop.

Your lips parted around a soft, disbelieving laugh.

"Ohhh, someone's feeling generous tonight." You leaned into the mic, voice low, teasing.

"What do you want me to do with that, huh?" Almost instantly, the chat moved, and a single comment appeared from the anonymous account:

"Spread wider."

A chill slid down your spine, but it wasn't fear, it was adrenaline, hot and dizzying. You shifted on your bed, tugging your shorts off slowly, deliberately. The little pink toy buzzed to life in your hand.

You pressed it against your clit, thighs trembling as you obeyed, spreading yourself more for the camera.

"Just like this?" you whispered, letting a moan catch in your throat when the vibrations hit a little too perfectly.

Another obscene tip rolled in. Another comment:

"Slower. Let me see how you drip."

The command made heat curl in your belly. Normally, you played with the chat, teased back and forth, but this felt... different. Like someone was reaching through the screen, controlling you. You followed anyway, dragging the toy in lazy circles over your clit until your slick coated the tip.

"Fuck, you're bossy," you breathed out, legs twitching. The black toy sat waiting beside you, thicker, heavier, something you usually saved for the finale. But the anonymous subscriber dropped $1000 this time, and the message that came with it made your stomach flip:

"Ride it. Don't stop until I tell you."

The request was impossible, ridiculous, but your body was already reacting before you could think, already moving. You grabbed the dildo, braced it against the mattress, and sank down slowly, stretching around it with a breathless whimper. Your chat went insane, hearts and filthy comments flying by. But your eyes locked on the blank icon, on the one person shaping this entire performance. You bounced on the toy, pace building despite your earlier plan to keep things slow.

"Shit, shit... " you moaned, head falling back, the pink vibrator still pressed to your clit. The double stimulation had you unraveling, thighs shaking. You couldn't stop even if you wanted to.

Another tip. Another line of text:

"Good girl. Faster."

You obeyed without thinking, grinding down harder, chasing the orgasm clawing its way up your spine. The sound of your slick hitting the dildo filled the room, obscene and wet, and you let your voice break free.

"Fuck, I'm so close, please!"

Another $500. Another command.

"Go on, ride it like you mean it, make a mess for me."

Your chest tightened. That was different. That wasn't just horny chatter, it it was possession. But the orgasm was already crashing into you, leaving you gasping, clenching hard around the toy as your whole body shook.

"Is this good enough f'you?" you cried out, the words spilling before you could even stop yourself.

The chat exploded with chaos, but none of it mattered. Only that blank icon. Only the way you gave yourself over to someone you didn't even know.

When the stream ended, you collapsed back on your bed, chest heaving, skin damp. Your notifications pinged, another private message from the anonymous account.

"Next time wear that black skirt to class."

Your blood ran hot, cold, everything in between. Because suddenly, you had the gut-wrenching suspicion that whoever this was? They knew exactly who you were.

_

_

Saturday mornings in your dorm are usually lazy, just rolling out of bed late, scrolling through your socials, maybe catching up on assignments if you felt like it. But this Saturday, when you open your door to grab the breakfast order you'd been waiting on, there's something else sitting on the floor.

A box. No label beyond your name and room number. You freeze for a second, confusion twisting your stomach. You didn't order anything. No one knows your address except the university and obviously your best friends. Heart hammering, you carry the package inside, setting it on your desk before peeling the tape away.

Inside is a velvet-black box. Sleek, expensive-looking. You open it, and your breath catches. Inside you find a toy. Bigger than any you own. Thick, intimidating, with a glossy silicone surface and a charging cable tucked neatly beside it. Brand new. Top tier. The kind of thing that costs way more than your broke college-student ass would ever splurge on.

There's no note. No explanation. Nothing. But you don't need one. Not when, ten minutes later, your phone buzzes with a notification.

Anonymous Subscriber tipped $500. Message included.

Your stomach flips as you open the private message.

Use the gift on your next stream. I want to see how well you can take it. All of it.

You nearly drop your phone. Your pulse races. How... how the fuck do they know your address? Who the hell would send something like this? You chew your lip, staring at the toy still sitting in its velvet box like some obscene invitation. There's a thrill coursing through you, heavy and dangerous. You should be alarmed, maybe even scared, but you're not. Not exactly. You're... flushed. Turned on by the thought of someone going out of their way to push you like this.

That night, when you finally hit "go live," you keep the camera angled just right so your face stays hidden as per usual. Your voice is soft, almost shy, when you greet the flood of viewers who've been begging for your return.

But your eyes keep flicking to the tip tracker. To the username that isn't a username, just a blank placeholder, but one that carries weight now. One that sent you a toy big enough to make your thighs clench just thinking about it.

You start slow with your usual toy, teasing, letting yourself warm up as the chat scrolls wild with comments and tips. But then, after a long pause, you hold up the new one. Just the sight of it makes the viewers lose their collective shit, throwing money at the screen like rain. And, of course, the anonymous account tops them all. Another $1,000 lands with a private message attached:

All of it. Deep. Don't hold back.

Your breath hitches. Heat spreads through you as you lube it up and position it between your thighs.

"Fuck," you whisper, too caught up to filter yourself.

"You want me ruined, huh?" The chat explodes. Your hand trembles as you press the head of the toy against your entrance, slowly stretching yourself around it. You moan into your hand, muffling the sound as the camera catches every shudder, every desperate roll of your hips.

Halfway in, you're already whimpering, toes curling against your sheets. The toy feels impossibly thick, almost cruel. But the money keeps rolling in, your anonymous watcher dropping obscene tips every time you take more of it inside you. By the time it's buried deep, your body is trembling and your eyes are wet. You ride it slow at first, then faster, chasing the pressure until your climax rips through you so hard you forget you're even streaming. When you finally collapse, chest heaving, the toy still inside you, the chat is going feral. And then, one last message appears.

Good girl. You'll do this again for me.

You stare at the screen, your body still shaking, heart pounding so hard it hurts. Whoever they are, they're watching. They know where you live. And they're not going anywhere.

_

_

As per usual, you sat in the back of Professor Romanoff's class. But now you were certain that something was truly off with the older woman. She wasn't cruel towards you anymore, but the way she looked at you during her classes was far from your typical professor/student relationship.

Class drags on for long, but you can't seem to give a damn because you're too busy dodging your professors predatory gaze. You feel the intensity of her gaze spread through your body like a wildfire. Why can't she stop looking at you? At one point, when the rest of the students are busy working on a class assignment she had just handed out, the woman begins walking through the rows.

You feel her, smell her. She's just everywhere. When she finally nears your table, she stops right behind you before glancing down at your sheet. You thighs involuntarily clench together, your fingers grip the table and your heart beats faster.

"Good work." Is all she says before she moves to someone else. You release a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

After class, your friends wait for you, but Natasha stops any further movements.

"Y/n stay behind." Your stomach drops. What could you have done now? Your friends raise their brows and you gesture for them to leave. The last student closes the door and now it's just you and her.

"Yes Professor?"

"I've noticed that you've been quite... distracted in my class, tired almost. Is something going on at home?"

"No." Since when did Natasha give a shit about you.

"Huh." She twirls her pen with one hand, her gaze still locked on you. You clear your throat, ready to turn around and leave leave when she says this:

"Tell me, did you enjoy the gift that I sent you?" Your body goes rigid.

"Sorry?" You're hoping that this was some sick joke she was playing on you.

"Don't play dumb with me y/n, it's not a good look on you. But I will say that red lingerie you wore definitely is."

She couldn't be talking about that. Its impossible.

"I think you have the wrong person."

"Really? So you weren't fucking yourself dumb with the toy I sent you on Saturday?"

"W-what... H-how?" You're stammering, you're panicking but also for some odd reason, you're now ridiculously turned on. Your professor had been the anonymous subscriber?! The one who tipped you so much money like your body belonged to her, the one who sent you that expensive toy, the one what had been commanding you to fuck yourself until you fell apart, until you made a mess on your sheets. The one who had been watching you. She had been watching you.

"You know I was about to ask you for a private video, but then I thought how much better it would be to see you falling apart up close, to hear you moan, to feel you." Her smirk deepens and you're still shocked.

"Do you ever think about me when you're fingers are buried deep in that pussy?" Your jaw slacks at her comment. You want to make a run for it, to leave this woman alone but your feet have failed on you, you're practically stuck.

"You've got the wrong person?"

"Really? I think I know the sound of my own student's voice. And ,well now I know the sound of her moans." She stalks towards you, you step back until your back hits the door.

"But don't worry, I won't tell your little secret. Why waste such a pretty thing like you." She whispers in your ear, your pulse hammers as you feel her fingers drag up and down your hip.

She finally takes a step back and you breath.

"You can leave now." She murmurs, lips twitched into a sly smirk. After that, you bolt out of her class. What the actual fuck just happened?

_

_

After the classroom blow-up, you flee. You didn’t wait to hear her excuses or promises, because the only thing louder than her voice in your head was the throb between your legs you refuse to acknowledge.

For the next two days you avoid the redhead. No streams. No lingering in class. No daring to check if the anonymous subscriber is still watching, even though you already knew the answer to that.

But then Saturday comes. And on Saturday, there’s a package at your door. Unmarked. Clean. Innocent-looking until you rip it open and find what’s inside: a toy bigger than the last, sleek and expensive, along with a cropped black top folded neatly beneath it. A slip of paper rests on top.

“Wear this. Use it. Let me see how much you can take for me.”

Your stomach flips. Because now it’s undeniable. Now it’s not just watching or hinting, it’s Natasha commanding you in the same way she does when lecturing, only filthier, hungrier.

You tell yourself you won’t. You tell yourself you’ll throw it away. That she doesn't deserve the satisfaction of having control over you. And you still hated her.

But that night, when you set up your camera, the top clings to your skin and the new toy hums in your hand. And you can’t help it. You give her exactly what she asked for. Viewers go insane, they beg for more filth but you don't listen to them, you can't because the only person who's voice matters is silent. Extremely silent but she tips $2500 and you know you've got her where you want.

When the stream ends, you find a private message waiting for you.

I always knew you'd be an obedient girl.

Something about that makes your thighs clench, but there was no way you'd just let her have control over you.

_

_

A week goes by and you've been completely ignoring the redhead and it seemed to anger her. But you didn't care. You stopped going live, your last post on your site was about a month ago apart from those lives and you were rarely active on Twitter because you didn't want to give the redhead the satisfaction. To let her think you were fucking yourself for her.

And now, when somebody knocks on your door impatiently, you furrow your brows before walking over and opening it. You find the redhead standing there with a dangerous look on her face. She doesn't even wait for you to say anything whore she walks inside.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You shut the door with your foot before turning around to get a proper look at her.

"Someone could've seen you. Why are you even here, you don't get to just walk into my space just because you've seen-"

"Seen you what? I dare you, finish that sentence." You swallow before taking a step back and crossing your arms.

"I thought so."

"You need to leave." It comes out shakier than you thought. Natasha tilts her head with that dangerous smirk.

She takes a step forward and you take another back. This goes on until she's cornered you against your door. One of her hands is placed on your waist while the other pins your wrists above your head.

"You're so pretty when you're obedient, you know that? But your little act of defiance is such a fucking turn on." You're breath stutters, your knees are quarter to giving up on you but that mouth of yours never knows when to shut up.

"What, you gonna fuck me like I belong to you now?" You scoff.

"You're all bark and no bite." Her free hand grabs your jaw roughly, tilting your face up toward hers.

“I don’t just say shit I can't do." Her fingers squish your lips together.

"That mouth of yours would be better wrapped around my cock." You swallow and she sees the defiance leaving your body, bit by bit.

And finally, finally, she kisses you. It's a messy kiss. Teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance. Her hands wrap around your waist while yours pull at her hair. Somehow, Natasha has your legs wrapped around your waist before you're flat on your bed.

"Do you know how long I had to sit in class and pretend all I wasn't thinking about was fucking you senseless?" Clothes are peeled off of your body before they're thrown onto the floor of your dorm room.

You lay half naked in front of the woman, just in your underwear, and the redhead swears she's never seen a better sight. Rough calloused hands grope your tits, moans tumble out of your lips before she moves down to kiss them. Skilled hands unclip your bra before it joins the pile of clothes on the floor. She seperates from your lips to get a closer look. Her eyes darken, her tongue comes out to lick her lips, her fingers twitch on the sides like she's holding on to the last bit of restraint she has. But then, her tongue literally slides from your neck to in between your tits. You moan softly and she moans too because you taste so amazing. And she hasn't even tasted the source yet?! But then it hits you.

You're about to fuck your Professor. Hello, you're about to fuck your hot professor who you supposedly hate.

"We shouldn't be doing this." You moan breathlessly.

"That ship sailed the moment you stuffed your pussy with the toy I bought for you." She mumbles as her teeth nip at your neck. Her lips trail down and then she's in between your thighs.

"Would you look at this mess." Natasha's thumb circles your covered clit that's practically begging for attention, begging to be freed from your panties.

She lifts your legs up, wraps them around her shoulders. You look down at her, those fucking green eyes are already looking up at you with that signature smirk like she's waiting for you to say it.

"Go on, say it."

"No."

"I know you want to detka, come on, beg."

"If you're not gonna fuck me, I'll do it myself like I have been for the last few months."

"Oh yeah?" She moves away from your thighs and you almost whine because you kiss her warmth.

Natasha grabs the chair that you used for studying before placing it across from you and taking a seat.

"Do it." You clench your jaw, you're horny, you're wet and she's making you fuck yourself in front of her. You don't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing you beg for her, so you sit up, glance at her for a final time before opening your nightstand and rummaging through it.

Either way, Natasha is benefiting from this. She was either going to get to hear you beg to fuck her or she gets to see you fuck yourself, live. Her gaze is completely locked onto yours as she watches you grab something. You pull out the wand before switching it on.

The room feels hotter and smaller with Natasha inside. And you swear you can hear everything, the sound of your toy buzzing, the sound of her breath hitching, the sound of your own shaky breath.

Natasha watches you bring the toy to your covered clit. You gasp at the feeling, you want to close your eyes but you want to see her. You want to watch her unravel for you.

"Do you enjoy watching me Professor?" You ask breathlessly and Natasha's cock twitches. Again. She doesn't answer, she just clenches her jaw.

"You're filthy, you know that?" She mumbles and you smirk.

"You're the one watching me with a hard on." She doesn't say anything after that. Instead she focuses on the way your thighs begin to shake from the intensity of the vibrator.

You're surprised that it didn't even take you that long to work yourself up. Normally it would take you a little longer before your stomach would be tightening. Guess the redhead just had that effect on you. Before you can go too far, you remove the toy from your soaking cunt. Slowly, you slip out of the ruined thong before it's thrown onto the floor. Now she's got you bare in front of her. Natasha sucks in a breath. It's better, way better than seeing you on her screen.

And she also has the opportunity to watch your face contort in pleasure. You place the wand onto your clit again and this time you hiss. Your moans grow louder while your pussy practically drools. And the redhead might be too. Your back arches off the bed as you feel your orgasm nearing. Buttons are pressed to increase the speed and soon enough, you're cumming so hard, your pussy leaks onto your sheets.

At that point, Natasha has had enough. She stands up swiftly, removing the toy from your pussy which makes you whine.

"Hey I wasn't oh-" Your protest is cut short when Natasha wraps your legs around her head and her tongue swipes across your wet pussy. She moans at the taste, she moans like she's the one getting off. You throw your head back in pleasure. Her tongue is everywhere. You feel her everywhere. She eats you out like a woman starved, like she's thristy and you're the only think that can quench her thirst.

"You taste like heaven, I could practically drown in this pussy." Your stomach flutters at her words.

Her hand presses your stomach down, she stops all of your movements. Your orgasm approaches so fast, you don't even feel it coming until it hits like a tidal wave. You moan out loud, hand covering your mouth to stifle it.

"Fuck Nat oh my fuck!" She still continues eating you, licking you, flicking her tongue, sucking your clit, thrusting it into your hole. At one point, you try to move away but her strong arms only bring you closer to her mouth.

"Stop running from me and take it." Is what she says before going back to devouring your now puffy pussy.

"It's too much." you whine and she laughs.

"Poor baby."

Then she slides two digits into your mouth.

"Make them wet." She watches your suck her fingers and she knows you're teasing her. But she'll have your mouth wrapped around her cock soon enough. Natasha spits onto your pussy and you feel yourself get even wetter. How the fuck was that even possible? She then slides those two coated fingers into your hole. You moan louder this time. So loud, you're sure you're going to hear complaints tomorrow but neither of you care. She thrusts her fingers inside you like she knows your body. She scissors them, curls them in a come hither motion until your velvety walls flutter around her. The sounds is fucking obscene, the sight? Mesmerizing.

"Would you fucking look at that." Your cum coats her fingers, your sobs fill her ears but she's not stopping, instead it's pushing her further. It's like music to her ears. You're drooling, your pussy is drooling and she may as well be because your pussy just tastes so fucking sweet. You sob again from the overstimulation.

"Want me to stop?" you shake your head and she smirks.

"Thought so. What a fucking slut." you cum again. You think that's all?

No.

She makes you sit on her face. She makes you work and chase the pleasure, to cum again. You ride her tongue like your life depends on it. Until your body is shaking, your habds gripping the headboard for some form of stability.

" Fuckfuckfuck!" You cum in her mouth and at least that time she stops. Your body goes limp next to hers. Your legs feel wobbly, your body is on cloud nine and you're just breathless because the professor you "hate" just gave you the most mind blowing orgasms of your life.

Natasha is still catching her breath, lying back against your pillows, lips swollen and chin glistening. You’re still trembling from what she just did to you, but something in you stirs. Something hungry.

You crawl between her legs, licking your lips with a smirk. She arches a brow.

“What are you doing, detka?”

“Returning the favor.” you whisper, fingers tugging her slacks down enough to free her cock. She’s already half-hard, flushed, heavy against her stomach. Your mouth waters instantly. Her smirk deepens.

“You sure you can handle me?” You shoot her a look.

“The question is... can you handle me?” Natasha opens her mouth to fire back as per usual, but the second you wrap your lips around the tip, her words die. A groan tears from her throat, low and sharp.

“Fuck-” You suck her slowly at first, teasing, letting your spit drip down her shaft as you pump her with one hand. Then, without warning, you take her deep. All the way. Nose pressed against her pelvis, throat squeezing around her cock.

Natasha chokes on her own moan, her head falling back against the pillow.

“Bozhe moi, fuck, y/n-” You hum around her, gagging just enough to make spit flood your mouth. When you pull back, strings of saliva connect your lips to her cock, messy and obscene.

“You like that, huh?” you purr, licking up the side of her shaft before sucking the tip again.

“Never had someone suck you like this?” She glares down at you, trying to play it cool, but her flushed cheeks and blown pupils give her away.

“Cocky little brat.” she mutters through gritted teeth.

“You think you can make me beg?”

"I've already got you moaning in Russian and I haven't even done a thing." She scoffs.

You smirk, then shove her cock back down your throat until you gag, drool spilling over your chin. You bob your head fast, messy, sloppy, both hands twisting her base while you suck like you’re trying to drain her soul. Natasha’s composure cracks. She fists the sheets so hard her knuckles go white. Her thighs tremble, hips bucking up into your mouth.

“Holy fuck... y/n, slow down or I’m-” She cuts herself off with a strangled moan, eyes rolling back. You pull off with a wet pop, wiping spit from your chin with the back of your hand, grinning up at her.

“What’s wrong, Nat? You look like you’re about to lose it.”

Her glare is weak now, her chest heaving. “You’re fucking... unreal.” You chuckle and go back down, this time keeping steady, swallowing her over and over, your throat clenching tight. Your spit is everywhere, on your lips, your chin, dripping onto your chest, soaking her cock until it’s shining. Her hand flies to your hair, tugging hard.

“Fuck y/n, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” You moan around her cock, eyes watering, mascara smudging, making the scene even filthier. When you come up for air again, you stroke her slick shaft and grin.

“Messy girl,” Natasha panted, eyes blown wide.

“Fuck, look at you. You love this, don’t you? Love choking on me like it’s the only thing you know how to do.” She's trying so hard to remain in control, but every time your lips leave her cock, that control breaks.

“Not so tough now, huh? Can’t even talk straight.”  Natasha’s mouth opens but only a broken groan comes out. She’s shaking, her head falling back, sweat beading on her forehead. You can tell no one’s ever gotten to her like this, and you’re drunk on it.

“Say it.” you tease, licking her tip lazily.

“Say I’m the best you’ve ever had.” Her eyes snap open, blazing, but she’s too far gone to deny it. Her voice is hoarse, wrecked:

“You’re-the fucking best-goddamn it, y/n”

And you smile, wicked and satisfied, before swallowing her down again until she’s cursing in Russian, clawing at the sheets, completely undone. Every gag made her groan, and when you pulled back, strings of spit clung between your lips and her skin.

You pulled back again, just long enough to smirk, spit glistening down your chin. “What’s wrong, Nat? You usually have so much to say.” Her glare was feral, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Shut up and don’t you fucking stop.” That was your victory. You went back in with determination, tongue swirling, hollowing your cheeks, sucking until her thighs were trembling under your hands. She tried to hold back, you could feel it in the way her abs tensed, but you didn’t let up. You wanted to wreck her.

And then, she broke. A guttural curse in Russian tore from her throat as she spilled into your mouth, hot and thick, filling you until your cheeks puffed. Natasha’s eyes rolled back, her hand fisting your hair so tight it hurt, her whole body shaking as you swallowed around her. You looked up at her with glassy eyes, letting her see the way you gulped every drop down. When you pulled back, you stuck your tongue out, showing her it was gone.

Natasha stared at you, still panting, still speechless. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in stunned silence.

“Speechless?” you teased, wiping spit from your chin with the back of your hand. She stares at you for a long minute before pulling you up for a kiss.

"Well I was right. Your mouth is better when it's around me." You roll your eyes playfully and she brings you in for another kiss.

Your hips slowly start moving after that. Your pussy grinds on her dick which makes both of you moan. Somehow it's enough to make her rock hard again and you drenched.

_

_

The redhead pounds into your pussy for the umpteenth time. You're placed onto your stomach, back arched while her hands grip your hips so hard, it may just leave a bruise the next day. You're moaning and sobbing into your pillow, your hands grabbing anything and everything for support. At one point, your hand had been placed on her stomach in attempt to get her to slow done, but she was having none of that.

"Don't be so fucking greedy. You can take toys but you can't take the real thing? Look at that. You're gonna take my cock like a good girl." She mocked before her hand slapped your ass.

You moaned in response and she simply brought both hands to your back to pull you flush against her. The sound of your ragged breaths and skin slapping bounces off the walls. It's so fucking filthy and obscene but again, you really couldn't care. She kisses you again, tongue dancing with yours but you can't even recuperate because she's fucking you so good. Your voice is hoarse as you beg her for more.

"Want more detka?" You nod your head and she pushes your head back down into the pillow and all you can do is sit there all pretty and fucked out while taking her dick. Her slender fingers move down to rub your clit in fast circles which has your moaning and sobbing.

"So pretty. Watching your pussy take my dick is so much better than those toys, don't you think so? Yeah, maybe I'll just have to record you riding me instead. You'd like that wouldn't you? Yeah baby? Of course you would." You mumble something incoherent into the pillow. At one point, your hand guided her to your hair, so she could pull it.

"You're such a perfect slut huh, all you needed was a good rough fucking to go dumb and obedient." She continues to rut into your pussy, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars. Dammit, the woman was really obsessed with your pussy.

This went on for a long while. Different positions. At one point you were riding her for your dear life, she had you in reverse cow girl too and now she had you in missionary so she could watch your face contort in pleasure.

The room was still heavy with the heat of your bodies, skin slick and tangled in the sheets as Natasha drove into you at a steady pace, her jaw clenched, eyes locked on the way your body welcomed her so easily. The condom was doing its job, but you could feel every drag of her cock straining against it, and the frustration in her sharp breaths told you she felt it too.

Then it happened. One rough stroke, her hips jerking too far back, and her cock slipped out with a wet slap, the condom gleaming, sagging with your slick. Natasha cursed under her breath and reached down to line herself up again.

“Wait.”Your voice cut sharp through the air, stopping her mid-motion. Green eyes flicked up to yours, wild, almost panicked.

“Baby, what...” She actually whined.

You bit your lip, staring up at her with wide eyes, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.

“Take it off. I don’t want it.” The words knocked the air out of her. Natasha’s hand froze mid-motion, her chest rising and falling fast.

“Y/n…” her voice cracked with warning, but also with something raw, something breaking loose inside her.

“Do you even know what you’re asking me?”

“I do,” you whispered, reaching up to cup her face, your thumb stroking her jaw.

“I want to feel you. Just you. Nothing between us. I want to feel you finish inside me.” Hher lips parted, her breath shaky against yours. She looked torn, fighting it, her hand trembling as she held the base of her cock.

“Baby, if I take this off… I won’t be able to stop. You know that, right?” Your answer was immediate, desperate.

“Then don’t stop.”

Something snapped in her. She hissed out a curse, yanked the condom off with a rough tug, and lined herself up again, this time bare, the blunt head of her cock hot and slick against your folds. The first push back inside you made both of you gasp. You could feel everything, every vein, every twitch, every pulse, stretching you open raw.

“Fuck, oh my fuck,” Natasha groaned, her face contorting as her forehead pressed to yours again.

“You feel like heaven. So warm, so fucking tight. How am I supposed to go back after this?” You moaned, wrapping your arms tight around her neck, pulling her down until her lips brushed yours.

“Don’t. Don’t ever go back.” Natasha’s hips moved with urgency now, her thrusts deeper, wetter, needier, the sounds obscene as your bodies met over and over. Every drag of her cock inside you made your stomach flutter, made your toes curl, made you cling to her like you’d drown if you let go.

“God, look at you,” she rasped, her lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, desperate kisses pressed anywhere she could reach.

“Letting your professor fuck you raw, telling me to cum inside you, fuck, you’re going to ruin me, y/n.”

“Good,” you whispered, legs hooking tight around her waist, anchoring her deep inside you.

“Ruin me too.”

That was it. Natasha’s rhythm broke, her hips snapping into you harder, sloppier, until she buried herself to the hilt and cried out, her cock twitching violently as she spilled hot inside you. She groaned your name against your lips, her whole body trembling with the force of it.

You felt it, the rush of warmth flooding deep, her cum filling you in thick spurts. The intimacy of it made your chest ache, your stomach flutter, butterflies turning into fire.

Natasha stayed buried deep, panting, clutching you like she couldn’t let go. Beads of sweat dripped down both of your foreheads as you came down. You exhaled before speaking again.

"Told you you'd love it bare." She only whimpered, too spaced out and speechless to talk. And when she pulled out? It was the best sight she could ever see, the perfect creampie. It was so perfect, she just had to fuck it back into you with slow strokes with her fingers. You whimpered, hips thrashing before she pulled her fingers out and licked them clean.

She kissed you again, you moaned, wrapping your hands around her neck before sighing into her mouth.

"What have I gotten myself into." She sighed, moving a strand of baby hair away from your face.

_________________________________________

Shit, I think I need to be quarantined after writing this. Although, I think I should turn this into a series? What do you guys think?

Anyways, tell me what you guys think and I'm taking requests now. Thanks for reading loves

Ann~

[of-apollo]

₊⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 !

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: One night, you’re cuddled up to Natasha in bed, the world feeling just right. The next morning, Natasha is gone without so much as a note or a text. Months later, she comes back, heart aching with regret.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓: Fearless Prompt List — That’s When: They left without warning, but now they’re back, asking if there’s still a chance.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Abandonment, angst, mention of self-worth issues, relationship complications, mild profanity.

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐂𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈

Natasha is standing at your door.

Two months. That’s how long it’s been since she vanished. Not a word, not a message, not a trace. Just silence, sudden and absolute, like someone tearing a chapter from the middle of your life. One night you made dinner and she didn't say much, just looked tired and distracted, then the next morning you woke up alone. No note. No call. Her things gone, drawer empty, air thinner than it had been in years.

Now she’s here, and you can’t bring yourself to open the door.

You stand there, just on the other side, barely breathing. Her shadow moves slightly against the frosted glass. Then her voice, quiet, tentative, threaded with something brittle.

“Please.”

You close your eyes. Try to convince yourself you’re still dreaming. That this is some kind of grief-ghost your heart conjured in the middle of another sleepless night. But then you hear it again, your name, this time. Soft. Careful.

You open the door.

She looks smaller than you remember. Not physically, Natasha’s never been anything less than steel and edge and fire, but right now she looks like something weathered down, burnt at the edges. Her shoulders are hunched, her eyes sunken with exhaustion. There’s a faint, healing scar on her cheek you’ve never seen before.

For a long moment, she just stands there. You wonder if she’s waiting for you to slam the door in her face. You don’t.

She exhales like she’s been holding that breath for weeks. You step aside, and she walks in.

It’s silent. Awkward, heavy. She doesn’t touch anything. Doesn’t sit. Just stands there in the entryway like she doesn’t know how to be here anymore.

You watch her as she takes it all in, the new throw pillow you bought in a panic one night just to fill the space, the mug on the counter she left behind. You didn’t wash it for weeks.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” she says finally, voice low.

You don’t respond. You’re still trying to figure out whether this is real.

“I thought maybe you would’ve moved,” she adds, quieter. “Left.”

She glances at you. You don’t look away.

“I didn’t,” you say. “Because I wasn’t the one who ran.”

There’s a pause. She nods, jaw tight. “I deserve that.”

You cross your arms. There’s so much you want to ask, but all of it sits behind a wall in your throat.

“I shouldn’t have left like that.” Her voice sounds more cracked now, like the words are cutting her on the way out. “I thought it would be easier if I didn’t say anything. Like pulling a Band-Aid off.”

You laugh, short and bitter. “You didn’t pull a Band-Aid, Natasha. You left a hole.”

Her eyes close for a second, and she nods like she’s expecting every hit. Like she wants them. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” she says. “But I was wrong. I should’ve called. I should’ve—” She breaks off. Her voice is thinner now. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“No,” you say quietly, “I didn’t.”

She looks at you again, and this time there’s no mask. No shield. Just bare, aching honesty.

“I didn’t know if I was coming back,” she says. “And I thought… if I didn’t make it, it would be better for you. To hate me.”

You stare at her. Your hands are cold. “So you made that decision for me.”

“I know,” she says quickly, stepping forward. “I know. And I’m not here to justify it. I’m just… I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know how to be in your life and still be me.”

She looks down. Her voice is quieter now, trembling. “But I wanted to come back. I just didn’t know if I’d still be… welcome.”

Your mouth feels dry. She’s standing there, hands at her sides, not reaching for you. Not assuming anything. Just waiting.

“I missed you,” she says.

You don’t say it back. You move to the kitchen without a word, turning on the kettle. The silence stretches between you, long and almost unbearable. But she stays. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t fill the space with excuses or soft lies.

You hand her a mug without looking. She takes it, fingers brushing yours, a little too long, a little too warm.

She sits at the table while you lean against the counter. You sip your tea. It’s too hot. It burns a little going down. Somehow, you prefer it that way.

“I’ve had to do a lot of things I’m not proud of,” she says after a long silence. “But this… leaving you like that… it’s at the top of the list.”

You stare at her. You remember the way her laugh used to sound in the morning, raspy and low. The way she’d steal your socks and forget to give them back. The way she’d look at you like you were a map she’d finally learned how to read.

Now she looks lost again.

“I kept waiting to stop being angry,” you say, and your voice shakes in a way that surprises you. “But I never did. I just got tired. Of missing you. Of waking up and checking the door. Of wondering what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, eyes wide, almost desperate. “This was never about you not being enough. It was about me not knowing how to deserve you.”

You feel your chest twist. You shake your head. “You don’t get to come back and say things like that.”

“I know,” she whispers.

You’re both quiet for a long time. Then, softly, you murmur, “Why now?”

Natasha exhales, long and slow. “Because I realised something. After everything that’s happened with the Accords, the team, the fugitive status, after all of it, the only thing I regret is leaving you.”

Her hands tremble slightly as she sets the mug down. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect anything. I just had to see you again. I had to know if there was still a chance.”

You look at her, really look, and it’s like staring into the storm that tore you apart and the calm that once made you believe in peace, all at once.

“I don’t know,” you say, honestly. “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Her eyes glisten. But she doesn’t cry. “I’ll wait,” she says. “As long as it takes.”

You nod. You don’t reach for her. But you don’t ask her to leave, either. She stays.

Later, when the moonlight filters through the blinds and she falls asleep on the far edge of the couch, arms wrapped tightly around herself, you watch her chest rise and fall. You remember how it felt to fall asleep next to her, warm and safe and so stupidly in love.

You wonder if it's possible to fall in love again with someone who already shattered you.

She came back. That has to count for something.

𝐌𝐂𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @writingcrustacean @feliciahardysgf @ayvuhs @nomajdetective @myguiltypleasures21

[wandaparadise]

The Roommate — Saints & Sinners

Summary: Your mother’s visit showed Natasha the reasons behind every bit of yourself. But it also unlocked something inside of you: the need to protect more than just yourself. And the aftermath was never so… delicious.

Pairing: g!p! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

Warnings(+18): mommy issues, toxic parent, R’s mother is a bitch, implied eating disorders, angst (if you squint), hurt/comfort, D/s dynamics, brat! reader, brat tamer! Natasha, possessive sex, marking kink officially unlocked, blowjob, deep throat, cum eating, oral sex, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation kink, praise kink, subspace, breath play (choking), Natasha is kind of an idiot (in love), mean-ish! Reader, sex as a weapon, fighting as foreplay, light fluff (?)

you don’t have permission to translate/repost my work anywhere. Please be respectful. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated. MDNI — Regina.

A/N: Hello there, babies ♡ This chapter is mostly to navigate a little bit more of R’s family dynamic and how that reflects on her present self. And it’s very personal to me, so I do hope you enjoy it and if you had gone through something similar I send you a big hug ♡

Also, my fangirl moment has come… shout out to @sweetromanova because she doesn’t know it but her works are my comfort place 🥹 ♡ Hi queen! Thank you for the support

The roommate official playlist «— CHECK IT OUT! (Suggestions are appreciated)

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

It was funny the way you always behaved around your mother.

For a very private and unreadable person as yourself, your emotions were always visible for anyone that dared to look close enough.

It was like watching a battle first hand. The way your heart pulled you towards her but your mind pulled you to the opposite direction. An internal conflict so loud that you could swore one of these days would actually materialise.

Naturally, that Saturday morning wasn’t any different.

You were sitting before your vanity desk. Doing carefully your makeup with a tired face. Usually, you would be glowing and full of energy but the second your mother was around, she drained it all.

Your body was hyper-aware. As soon as you saw her, something clicked inside of you and switched into survival mode; now every movement, every word, every breath was calculated and careful.

There was something ironic in the way you hated having your mother around but you still loved her. You never called but when you did, it was to seek that maternal love that never came.

You could be crying and in the middle of an anxiety attack, and your mother instead of giving you comfort words, she would start scolding you.

‘You are a brat. Your father won’t always be around to fix your mess. So figure it out, sweetheart. You are smart and very capable’

Because a lecture was what a person in distress needed. Not soothing words, not coos or at least guidance to remember how to breathe.

Being soft with a person like you was useless, you needed limits and a reality check instead of being coddled — or that was what your mother always said to justify her lack of love.

And it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to show affection. You had watched her coddle your brother, be softer and caring around him.

‘You don’t understand because you are not a mother yet. Every kid is different. Your needs are not the same as Alec’s. And just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean I don’t lecture him too’

A simple explanation, an excuse, to help you understand why the treatment was different but never explained her lack of love towards you.

In your mother’s eyes, you weren’t an easy child. No matter how hard you tried, how much you wanted to be what she wanted, your nature would never allow it.

Because she would say something to subtly attack you and you would snap back, instead of being silent and take the hit. She would mention your father and you would walk away, instead of listening to her trash the man.

Alec did all those things. He didn’t take the hit, he took a moment to comprehend what was being said. But you were just hot headed.

Alec listened to his mother vent about your father because he understood she was still hurt from the divorce, but you just didn’t care enough.

You were always the problem. Never her.

Being around her was like trying to fight the feeling of wanting her praises and still be yourself. You held onto those bits that made you who you were, and most of the time it ended with a fight after your mother pushed over and over again until you broke.

But again, it was your fault because you were impulsive and had anger issues. She was just being a loving and concerned mother.

You sighed when your eyes landed on the bruises around your neck. Your mind already voicing what your mother would say the second she had the chance.

The night before was a dream.

Neither you nor Natasha stopped to think twice about the brunch, you both looked like a masterpiece or a crime scene. But it was also a reminder of all the feelings that were displayed in bed; the need to belong and to own.

And maybe you would’ve covered them for the sake of your father; the sweet man wouldn’t dare to say a thing but didn’t need you to traumatise him.

However, with your mother there and knowing exactly what she would say, the coin was in the air.

Cover them and place nice or wear them proudly as a statement that her opinion didn’t and shouldn’t matter?

The decision was very clear, though.

You wanted her approval, but you also loved reminding her that you slipped through her fingers even when she invested so much time in you.

You were your own person. Not her mirror. Not her toy. But an actual human being that could and would think on her own, even if on the inside your gut burned with need and desperation for mommy’s love.

You stood up once your makeup was done and a knock on the door came. You didn’t need to ask who that was, you already knew so you just let out a soft ‘come in’ as you picked one perfume.

Alexander looked at you with apologetic eyes. He was taller and beefy, but in that moment he felt like an ant as your eyes met his.

You weren’t glaring at him. Actually, there wasn’t any sign of emotion in your eyes except maybe for determination. Which meant trouble.

You dressed for battle. Looking like a princess with a sword on her back. You were your own knight in shining armour because the men in your family shared something: around your mother, they submitted faster than you did.

That was probably the biggest problem.

Your father wasn’t the one to fight; he hated conflict and confrontation, always quiet even when your mother was screaming and she found that as infuriating as you standing up for yourself.

Alexander not always agreed. But he didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t push, he just listened and waited until the storm passed. Always calm and passive. Sometimes he actually told your mother off, but most of the time he didn’t say anything other than ‘I understand’.

And when it came to you, it always depended on how tired you felt or how far your mother pushed. Sometimes, you just nodded or grunted under your breath but kept quiet. However, most of the time your tongue ran before you could stop yourself.

You learned to weaponise your mother’s praises. She thought you were smart? Then smart-ass comments she would get, justifiable and with references.

You used her own words and smiled devilishly when her jaw clenched. You learned to mirror her game because it was the only way to win or, at least, to get her off your back.

She pushed and you pushed back. No matter how much your father silently pleaded or how Alexander shook his head to make you stop, you always stepped into her game.

Maybe it was to prove to yourself that you could do it, that you didn’t care as much as you thought or maybe it was because your mother was childish and she dragged you down to her own level.

Whatever it was, it never ended well.

“I tried to call you” Alec mumbled, shifting nervously as you sprayed perfume and finished putting on your jewellery “Wands did too”

“I was busy, baby” you replied softly, letting your brother out of his misery “I assume she heard about the brunch through you” he nodded, looking down as if the floor could save him and you approached him “It’s not your fault”

You caressed his cheek and he leaned into your touch. Both looking at each other with loving eyes and silent exchanges.

As kids, your mother loved to pin you against each other.

You were the smart one; better grades, better discipline, better skills. Alec was the emotional intelligent one; always sweet, always caring, always the listener.

Your mother made it a competition between you to the point that the normal sibling fight went beyond that. Curses and mean words thrown at each other to belittle and hurt.

Until, the divorce came and you realised that you only had him. Your parents would eventually die and the only person in the world that would and could understand your pain would be your brother.

Then, instead of fighting each other, you cheered and helped. You praised him for his academic attempts and he reminded you how sweet and loving you were. You still fought like any other siblings but after that, you sat, talked your feelings and hugged it out.

The competition was never meant to exist. And the fights shouldn’t be against each other but against the person that provoked them: your mother.

“She told me she missed you” Alec explained softly and you offered him half a smile “And well, I didn’t think you and Natasha…”

You chuckled “That’s alright” you stood on your tiptoes and pecked his cheek “Whatever happens, it’s not your fault. She’s an adult and you are her son, not her handler” you hugged him and he pulled you closer “I love you”

“I love you too” he whispered and kissed your forehead “Let’s go. I don’t think leaving Natasha in a room with mom it’s a good idea. Although, your father seems to be shielding her”

“Of course he is” you locked an arm around his “Always protect the innocent souls”

“She doesn’t look that innocent to me, look at that neck” he lifted your chin and you smacked his hand, making him chuckle “You know mom will…”

“Yes, and I couldn’t care less”

You joined everyone soon enough. Natasha was smiling softly as your father told her some story about you and Alec, because of course the embarrassing parent was him.

Pietro and Wanda were playing some video game, but the brunette handed the controller to Alec as soon as she saw him. And your mother was sitting with her legs crossed and bored eyes scrolling through her phone.

“Finally! I’m starving” Pietro teased and you rolled your eyes.

“You guys could’ve started without me” you replied shrugging “But please, join me”

Everyone sat at the dinning room. When Natasha tried to sit next to you, you shook your head softly with pleading eyes. You would explain everything but for that, the redhead also needed to see it to understand.

Your mother, as always, sat at the head of the table with you and your brother at her sides. Wanda sat next to you as a live-wire, ready to jump in case things got out of control because maybe your father didn’t know the Maximoff twins until recently, but your mother did and both twins hated the woman.

Your father sat next to your brother and Pietro next to Wanda. Leaving the poor and lost redhead to sit across from your mother. But the farther away Natasha was from your mother, the better. Besides, your father and Pietro were warm enough to help her out when the inevitable questions came, if they made it past you.

You helped Amelia with the food after your mother threw a snarky comment about you getting too comfortable with staff; as if your mother didn’t grow up with a housemaid at your grandmother’s.

Your mother, unlike your father, grew up with privilege. They met through college; your father had a scholarship, your mother was there because your grandmother had connections.

He was a lawyer, your mother — ironically — was a therapist.

Your father grew up with less opportunities, naturally his instinct told him his children shouldn’t and wouldn’t go through the same thing as he did once.

Your mother grew up with a lot of opportunities and money, but she loved to act that privilege didn’t give her anything. She worked as hard as your father and you were expected to do the same.

Hence why she thought you were a brat.

Your father gave you the world, afraid of you going through the same needs as him. And your mother thought that was just spoiling you.

Alec was the exception, because in your mother’s eyes, your father didn’t give him as much as he did to you. You were daddy’s little girl and he was just Alec. Another excuse to justify the unbalance between you when it came to love.

You had your father spoiling you. Naturally, your mother had to protect and love the neglected child that Alexander definitely wasn’t.

“Wanda, dear, how is your mother?” your mother started conversation when the silence stretched in the room and the only noises were the clicking of silverware against the plates.

Wanda straightened up and smiled politely. And you almost snorted. Maybe she wasn’t your blood sister but she sure as hell knew how to handle your mother.

Best friends that bonded over trauma around the same type of mother, stayed together right?

“She’s doing fine. Busy with father in Fiji, I believe. Isn’t that right, Pietro?” Wanda replied softly and Pietro simply nodded, deciding his food was more interesting.

Unlike Wanda, that always walked around with grace and politeness even when she had a sharp tongue, Pietro was always one step closer to snap at your mother.

At the beginning, your mother was sweet and caring around them. But the more the twins hung around the house, the more comfortable she felt and at some point the line blurred and she forgot to care about them being around when she scolded you.

They were now part of the family and that meant, they got to see the ugly parts.

So maybe with Natasha being new to the equation would keep your mother from being too hard on you. However, that would never stop her from voicing out what she thought.

Her defence? She was telling the truth and the truth was meant to be uncomfortable at times. She wasn’t mean, she was honest. Or that’s how she justified when her tongue ran out as if she had no filter.

The next to be questioned was your father. And the man was irritated by your mother’s presence. But he replied at every question and clenched his jaw at any passive-aggressive comment your mother threw.

It wasn’t a messy divorce. In fact, your mother claimed it was necessary and that she left because your father didn’t have the balls to do it himself.

That never stopped her to blame him for the failure of their marriage; if he only was more supportive, if he only was around more, if he only listened and fought for their love, maybe they would still be together.

And for someone that was too kind and sweet like your father, at some point he finally stopped giving a fuck what your mother thought.

He was never mean, he encouraged you to have a healthy relationship if that’s what you wanted, but he stopped pretending that your mother didn’t irritate him.

‘I care for her. I respect her as a person and as your mother. She gave me you and your brother. But we really don’t need to be friends’

Your father said something about work and you looked up immediately, glancing at your mother as she connected the dots between Natasha and your father’s work.

That could go very wrong or very well, depending on the angle your mother took. But it was hard to predict; the woman loved taking every single perspective and made it seem like she was just asking.

“Wait, are your parents Melina and Alexei?” your mother asked directly to Natasha and you saw the moment something close to anger clouded green eyes just to soften a second later and smiled politely and nodded “How wonderful! I met them once at a charity gala. Your mother is such a beautiful woman”

“Thank you” Natasha replied softly and you offered her an apologetic smile.

“And tell me, Natasha, are you the reason my daughter now has help?” she asked sweetly but it was an accusation, you clenched your jaw and looked at your father for a moment.

He sighed and nodded subtly, understanding what you were asking and willing to take the hit for the sake of Natasha.

“Actually, mother, it was my idea” you interjected before the redhead could reply and you ignored the questioning look Natasha threw you. Your eyes focused on your mother as her features hardened “I asked daddy for it. I’ve been extremely busy”

“Busy enough for you not to clean after yourself?” your mother scoffed and shook her head “After all this time you keep spoiling her” she looked at your father and he rolled his eyes but said nothing “A housemaid is a privilege, sweetheart. What will you do when your father’s money can’t pay for your lifestyle?”

Wanda’s hand landed on your thigh and gave you a gentle squeeze. Alec looked at you and shook his head. Pietro grinned and your father decided you were the only one that could take your mother down.

And Natasha noticed the shift in the air.

At first, your mother seemed really sweet and polite. Natasha couldn’t understand why everyone looked on edge at the presence of such a sweet woman that wasn’t like her mother.

No, your mother knew about the things you liked, she praised you when you weren’t in the room and talked highly of you. Why would you look so scared and conflicted in her presence?

The words came and sounded like the truth. Unlike Melina that loved to throw money at problems, your mother made money the problem. And her words somehow made sense; you couldn’t depend on your father’s money but that didn’t mean you were a brat with an expensive lifestyle.

So the air shifted and Natasha noticed how everyone was preparing to witness the start of another monumental war. And the call was yours, the redhead noticed as much.

She knew you walked around exuding power and control. Now Natasha knew where you got it from. People around you looked small and the only two titans in that apartment were you and your mother.

But what would your answer be? Would you agree with her like Natasha did with Melina to avoid conflict?

Somehow, that didn’t sound like you and Natasha confirmed it when you talked.

“Perhaps daddy won’t be around as much as I would love him to” you started softly, your voice matching the sweetness of your mother’s and looking at your dad “I can only hope any god out there keep him by my side for another hundred years” you added and looked at your mother with a soft smile, knowing how much she hated that you were always so loving around your father and never with her “But I’m sure I can keep my lifestyle just fine, mother. Nothing that daddy’s credit card and my trust fund can’t fix”

There was a time when you fought the brat accusations. Trying to prove people around you that you weren’t a brat, that it wasn’t your fault that your father gave you things, that you never asked for expensive gifts.

Until you got tired of people not listening. So if you can’t beat the enemy, join them.

However, Natasha didn’t see it coming. The rest of the table did. Pietro almost laughed, Alec sighed, your father just smiled proudly and Wanda silently scolded her twin.

And you were sitting there, embracing the silent accusation and mocking your mother’s words with sweetness. Natasha knew you only used your dad’s credit card when needed, not like it was unlimited credit. So the act was a challenge towards your mother.

The redhead almost stood up and kissed you because you looked even hotter.

“Money isn’t an unlimited resource, sweetheart” your mother replied with her brow raised and sip on her juice “What will you do when you run out?”

“Sugar daddies are a thing now, mom” you chuckled and Pietro snorted, taking the opportunity to break as if the joke itself was funny “I believe I can find one here in Manhattan”

“Beauty also runs out” she pointed and shrugged “But let’s not fight, sweetheart. We have a guest” she reminded you, as if that wasn’t Natasha’s home too “Life will prove me right”

You sighed and the conversation kept going.

Mostly, Alec would talk to her as the only one that genuinely care enough. Sometimes Wanda would chime in just for the sake of it. Your father and Pietro talked with Natasha, although the redhead kept glancing at you as you played around with your food.

Amelia made you the waffles you liked so much, Wanda even gave her the recipe. It was supposed to be a celebration brunch and now it was a war zone.

But you ate, because your mother could try to take everything away from you but your skin kept buzzing with happiness after the night before, your body craving to be with Natasha again and repeat it.

You just had to survive that morning first.

And for the first time, Natasha watched you eat eagerly. She smiled softly to herself, almost proud of you for eating without needing a push. But you were half way through when your mother’s attention went back to you.

“Are you seriously going to eat the whole thing, sweetheart?” she asked and everyone tightened their jaws except you. Because that was payback and your mother only knew how to punch were it really hurt “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, my love, but you are gaining weight”

Wanda looked at Natasha, almost as if the brunette read her mind, and she shook her head before Natasha could pick a fight with your mother.

Sometimes, they needed to give you space to work. They only intervened if your mother managed to corner you.

“They are oat waffles, mother” you said softly but dropped your fork “You know I follow a diet, but today is my cheat day”

“My dear, there shouldn’t be a cheat day” she caressed your cheek and her touch felt like a burn “You are a dancer, much to my displease, but you have to be very strict and treat your body like a temple”

“I’m also going to the gym, I run every morning and I dance. What else can I do to keep the healthy life, mother?” your voice got quieter, broken, a side of you that looked so vulnerable because your mother went for the throat and Natasha’s fingers twitched.

Everything started to make sense.

Your routines, your need to be so strict, your insistence to never skip a run and your eating habits. All of them provoked by your mother’s words.

There was a time when you didn’t care that much about your looks or your weight, but that was a battle you actually lost against her.

Silently and without noticing it, you started to change the way you dressed, what you ate and added workout to the equation.

You claimed to dress for yourself, but it was half the truth because your mother and your grandmother started praising your girlie style.

You claimed to eat healthy and workout the necessary amount, unaware that you went from zero to one hundred in a blink. A drastic change that wasn’t so healthy and all in hopes that your mother would be satisfied.

“Just try to keep going, my love” your mother’s eyes twinkled with something close to love and your heart skipped a beat “But never forget that if you slip, you will lose all your hard work”

You hummed and nodded. Gaining a proud smile from your mother when you politely asked Amelia to take your plate away. And Natasha’s heart dropped.

The silence stretched again. An uncomfortable and heavy silence that spoke volumes about everyone’s feelings towards the moment. The only one that didn’t seem crushed by it was your mother. She limited to grab your hand and rubbed circles on its back with her thumb, wearing a smile that said: good girl.

By the time everyone finished, Alec was the only one to make small talk with your mother. The family moved one by one to the living room, not daring to leave the apartment until your mother did. And you almost looked defeated.

Natasha noticed the way you started to get deep in thought, the internal conflict in your eyes and your spark fighting to be kept alive.

And she was sure you were about to cry but were too stubborn for that and maybe it was a good thing, because your mother didn’t deserve to see a single tear rolled down your cheeks.

You and your mother were the last ones to stand up. And as every time a hard topic went between you, your mother pulled you into a loving and almost warm hug.

You let yourself believe for a second that she was doing it because she cared, because maybe she was sorry for being so harsh. But that was a lie.

She hugged you because it was a reward for saying the right things. For submitting when asked instead of fighting back as you usually did.

Your mother was your never ending toxic relationship. You fought, you submitted and you hugged. And you hated knowing that even then, you loved her genuinely.

She pushed you back, eyes assessing you carefully and she tilted her head when she finally looked at your neck. Your muscles stiffened, preparing for a fight and your breath turned heavy.

“What is that, sweetheart?” she asked disapprovingly. She knew the answer and wanted to hear you say it.

Your cheeks blushed and you chuckled nervously.

“What is what, mother? Let’s join…”

“You are way too old to play dumb, (Y/N)” she cut you off and the room shifted again. Wanda held down Natasha along with your father, and the boys stopped fighting over what game to play “Do you know how you look right now? Like a cheap skank”

Your heart dropped at the words. You knew she wouldn’t like the bruises; your mother always said those were for people that have little self-respect.

You didn’t think she would be so explicit with you, though.

“I think that is enough” Natasha said, finally managing to stand up and you both looked at her. Your mother offered her an amused look and you were silently pleading her to stay out of it “She doesn’t nor she is one. I believe that’s your daughter who you are talking to”

The redhead walked up to you, rushed steps as if it was killing her being so far away from you. She stood behind you, an arm wrapped around your waist and she pulled you closer, offering your mother a defiance look.

You saw the moment your mother’s politeness left. If Natasha wanted to overstep, then she would get the whole deal like the twins did. Maybe worse.

She smiled softly with a brow raised as her eyes assessed the redhead and you wished you were bigger than Natasha to shield her from the storm.

“So you did that to my daughter” she stated and snorted “And not only did you leave her looking like that, you dragged her down with you”

“Mother” you warned, Natasha keeping you from breaking her embrace.

“No, my love, none of you are teenagers” your mother reprimanded you “Whatever you do in your intimacy shouldn’t be on display for the world to see”

“Perhaps you’ve never experienced that type of passion, mother” you retorted, your tone sharp and direct. She went low and you would go lower for Natasha “Because if you did, Alec and I wouldn’t be children of a broken home”

Your mother clenched her jaw and glanced over your father, almost expecting him to back her up because you were going after their marriage.

However, your father simply leaned back on the sofa and folded his arms. He even dared to shrug.

“Passion has nothing to do with how you are looking, my dear” she said coldly, glaring at you and you simply glared back “Does your mother approve of this, Natasha?”

“We don’t need her approval and we sure as hell don’t need yours, mother” you rushed to say before Natasha could, breaking the embrace and walking towards the closet next to the door. You grabbed your mother’s coat and purse “I believe you also overstayed your welcome”

“I’m your mother, you can’t-“

“And I’m your daughter. This is my home, not yours” you said as coldly as she talked to you “And it’s also Natasha’s. So you don’t get to stand in there and insult her” you glanced at Alec and he sighed, starting to say his goodbyes to the family and then reaching for his mother “when you are ready to apologise to her, we will be happy to have you here”

Your mother stood still, her jaw tightened and her hands fisted. Alec wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Mom, let’s go” he asked softly. Tears pricked on your mother’s eyes as she nodded, not daring to break your stare.

You handed her the purse and the coat and Alec ended up taking for her. Your face as tight as hers when she moved closer to you.

“I came here in good faith, (Y/N). You don’t have to be like that” she said carefully, trying to reach the side of you that always bent for her.

“And I believe you, mother. But you need to learn when to stop” you replied dryly and without hesitation “In the meantime, I will always stop you”

“You act like I don’t say those things because I love you” she insisted, ignoring Alec’s silent pleads to leave.

“Sometimes I believe you don’t, mother” you took a step closer and your eyes softened for a second “However, I do love you” you pecked her cheek “But you don’t get to be like that with Natasha. This is between us”

Alec ushered your mother out before she could reply and fight back. And when the door finally closed, you let out a heavy breath.

You leaned for a moment against the door, your forehead pressed against your forearm as you tried to regulate your breathing and fought the tears that threatened to roll down.

Natasha approached you but you shook your head as a silent request to give you a moment. She didn’t touch you, but she didn’t dare to move either. She just stayed, letting you know she was there and she understood.

And god, she hated that she did. Because your mothers treated you both so differently and somehow it was the same bullshit.

After a few minutes, you finally felt more like yourself. Your skin kept buzzing with frustration and anger, your head started to ache and you felt like you ran a marathon. But you told yourself the same thing over and over again:

She was gone. You were fine. It was just a memory.

And when you turned to hug Natasha, you felt like you could finally breathe. Her scent wrapped around you along with her arms, a tight hug that said all the things you both wanted and couldn’t just yet.

“Well, I certainly don’t miss my mother now” Pietro was the one to break the silence, gaining a slap on the arm from his twin, a glare from Natasha but you and your father just laughed and that was enough for him.

“And you all wonder why I divorce her” your father teased and you giggled, a sound that helped Natasha relax.

“No, dad. We don’t. We know why” you smiled softly.

(—)

The following days, Natasha was extremely sweet to the point she didn’t sound like herself as if she was trying to compensate for the lack of your mother’s love.

You understood why. It happened the same with Wanda and Pietro, both trying to pamper and coddle you as if you were something fragile, something easy to break.

And it wasn’t like you weren’t grateful for the efforts, but you hated that they felt like a pity party.

There was also the fact that after every encounter with your mother, you were grumpy as the feelings slowly washed out. You tried so hard to be an emotionally responsible person, knowing no one but dear mother had the fault, but you were only human.

So by Thursday, your patience around Natasha ran thin.

The redhead wasn’t helping her case either, that was the only thing that gave you comfort as you feel how you started to break.

After your very public display of affection, the word spread around campus like fire. And you were right, someone took a picture of you two kissing to prove that it wasn’t a rumour but an actual fact.

One would think that knowing you were in a potential relationship, people would stop trying to flirt. But no, they doubled the efforts as if you were an attraction force and Natasha was living proof that they had a chance if they tried enough.

In addition to that, Natasha’s fan club was insufferable.

Girls that once smiled softly at you, now glared at you as if you stole something that was meant to be theirs. And you were so irritated that you caught yourself thinking more than once:

‘You want her? Take her!’

As if Natasha was a thing and not a person. So after that thought, you felt bad and then you didn’t feel so bad when Natasha simply grinned at them.

They said you can take the player out of the game, but you can’t take the game out of the player. And you knew that the second you started sleeping around with Natasha.

Not once did you feel jealous or insecure because it was useless, it wasn’t your right and Natasha was old enough to make her own fucking decisions.

But the night at your studio was also a game changer. You were honest when you told her that you wanted it to be real, as scary as that sounded.

And you knew she meant her words too. But Rome wasn’t made in one day, so for Natasha to stop being that side of her would take more than a few days, holding hands and kisses.

However, that day, reason took a vacation.

Everything piled up by Thursday. Natasha’s extreme sweetness, people asking you out, girls looking at you as if they were trying to kill you and the redhead flirting without even noticing it.

So when you walked into spanish class, you saw a girl leaning down to show her cleavage to Natasha and the redhead was simply grinning with her eyes betraying her, you snapped.

When Natasha felt jealous, her first reaction would be to drag you to the closest bathroom or janitor closet and fuck you until she was sure you would be walking around dripping with her cum.

Although, you weren’t the jealous type.

Your mind screamed that it wasn’t worth it. If she wanted, she would do it. Your body begged you to go physical and fight for what was yours. And your heart simply kept shut, almost done with Natasha.

So the snap came in form of a cold shoulder.

No screaming, no fighting, nothing. A silent punishment that spoke volumes. You could walk right up to Natasha and kiss her to prove a point, but that would be too easy for the redhead.

You wouldn’t ask, you wouldn’t beg and you sure as hell wouldn’t give her the room to win. You hated repeating yourself, so this was a one time thing. And Natasha was the one to choose how to fix it.

You sat on your old spot, at the front, and you made sure there were no empty seats around you. The redhead was too busy flirting, that she failed to notice you already arrived and that only added to the trouble she was in.

By the time she realised you were there, the class started and her heart dropped when she saw you next to no other but Tyler. That wasn’t part of your plan but a win was a win.

And the blonde girl that was flirting with her sat on what was supposed to be your seat but Natasha forgot about her because Tyler was already leaning close to you and you giggled softly.

Tyler O’Connor was one of the very few guys that understood he didn’t have a chance with you but flirted with you for the fun of it. And he was very clear about it, always double checking that you were still comfortable around him and reminding you that he knew that no meant no.

He was a friend, a very handsome one but not your type. In fact, you didn’t know you had a type until Natasha came along and it made sense.

You loved challenges. And the redhead was the worst of them all.

And when Tyler heard about you and Natasha, he stopped flirting as much with you out of respect. But the redhead didn’t know that or didn’t want to understand it. Whatever it was, Tyler’s presence was the one that triggered her the most because your cheeks always blushed, you giggled and sometimes you even touched him.

And deep inside of her, she knew things weren’t official yet. That was killing her but she had your first date planned to the dot and now she was stuck waiting, watching no other but Tyler exchange silly notes during the whole class.

You were supposed to be sitting next to her, not a blonde girl whose name she already forgot. Natasha should be the one that gave you silly notes, not Tyler. You should be smacking her hand every time she tried to sneak it under your skirt, the one you let her pick for you that morning in hopes you would let her fuck you in public and silently.

So when the class finished, Natasha was about to lose it.

You didn’t plan the Tyler part but he was there and it was so easy to step into Natasha’s game that when you caught a glimpse of her rushing through the crowd to get to you, you locked your arm with your friend and started to walk out of the lecture hall.

He followed you, half because you didn’t give him another option as you dragged him down the hallway and half because he was curious about your behaviour.

And you were basically running, knowing Natasha was following you with heavy steps and close to snap someone’s neck.

When you stepped outside the building, you were almost panting but smiled innocently at Tyler that offered you an amused look.

“Why do I feel like you are getting me in trouble, angel?” he chuckled when you stopped and leaned closer to him.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” you grinned and he rolled his eyes playfully “I will make up for it?”

“Depends how far you will take this because she’s approaching and I’m not sure who she will kill first” he teased and you giggled “Remember me”

“What do you-“

In a swift move, he grabbed you by the waist and leaned your bodies down with his hand holding yours and intertwining your fingers. He winked at you as your cheeks blushed and by the time he straightened up, a very angry Natasha was next to you.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave, angel” he said softly and leaned closer to you, his breath sending a shiver down your spine when it hit your ear “You better make up for it” he whispered and you giggled again as he pecked your cheek “See you around, beautiful” then he turned to Natasha that seemed to be close to kill him on spot and he just grinned “Romanoff, looking good”

And he disappeared before Natasha actually decided to commit murder in front of everyone. The redhead folded her arms, jaw tightened as her eyes watched you carefully. But you were ignoring her and that was pissing her off even more.

You fixed your clothes, forcing her eyes down as you took longer with your skirt and made her lose focus of a second. A deadly reminder of what she missed for not keeping it in her pants.

Natasha only snapped out of her thoughts when you started to walk away. She growled under her breath but followed you, because anywhere you went now, there was a love-sick redhead behind you and ready to please you.

She first tapped your shoulder and you only looked over your shoulder and huffed. Then she tried to walk backwards in front of you and you kept dodging her, barely making eye contact with her and laughed when she tripped.

By the time you made it to the other building for finance lecture, Natasha’s nostrils were flaring and her fingers were twitching.

She acted fast as soon as she saw the janitor closet where she fucked you more than once. And she was tired of you ignoring her so was it really a surprise when she hoisted you over her shoulder?

You groaned, punching her back as if that would make her stop and when you started to protest about your skirt lifting, Natasha simply pressed her hand over your ass to secure no one but her could see the underwear you picked that morning.

Natasha only put you down when she locked the door and blocked you from going out. You growled but avoided her gaze, trying repeatedly to move past her as if you would make it at some point.

Finally, you looked at her and her green eyes were darkened with lust but mostly, wrath.

“Move” you demanded through gritted teeth and she raised a brow “Romanoff, move. I’ll be late”

She snorted but moved just an inch, giving you enough hope and when you stepped closer her hands grabbed you and pinned you against the door.

“It’s funny how you think I care about your fucking class” she said with a low and raspy voice that always got you wet, specially now that she was exuding power with one hand pressed against the door and the other one holding your hips firm “Care to explain why you are ignoring me?”

You huffed and turned your face to the side when leaned closer to kiss you. Her hand moved fast, dropping your backpack along with hers and she trapped your body.

Her lips brushed your neck, her nose inhaling your scent almost to make sure you still smell like yourself and not like Tyler and your knees almost failed you.

“Leave me alone” you grunted when she licked your neck and you pushed her off “Go with Hayley if you want to fuck so bad”

She raised a brow “Who the fuck is that?” but you just scoffed and Natasha smirked when she realised what was happening “You are jealous”

“Me? Jealous?” you snorted and pushed her again but your efforts were pointless, Natasha could be a rock when she wanted “I don’t care what you decide to do in your free time. We are not a couple”

“But we are something” she replied firmly and grabbed your chin to make you look at her “Whoever that Hayley is, I don’t like her”

“No, you liked her boobs” you tried to free your face from her grip but it was useless, again “My class started, let me go”

“You are not going to that class. In fact, you are not going anywhere but home” she retorted and when her knee sneaked between your legs, you whimpered “That blonde is just a blurred image for me. I don’t care about her nor do I want her”

“Your grin and your eyes said otherwise” you insisted and your hands were trying to keep her away from your body, knowing your skin was now burning with need “I’m deadly serious right now, let me go”

“My statement stands, you are not going anywhere. Not to class, not to the gym and not to dance practice” she husked and pushed your body even more “You lost your privileges to walk around free”

You snorted “My privileges? You don’t fucking own me, Romanoff”

“But I do, princess” she smirked devilishly and leaned closer to your ear, making you bite your lower lip “Maybe your little time around Tyler made you forget who actually makes you feel good” she whispered and you held back a moan “That girl means nothing to me, what about Tyler?”

“He is just a friend, how many times do I-“ her hand wrapped around your throat and you gasped, your hands grabbing her wrist but you weren’t sure if you wanted to make her stop or squeeze harder.

“A friend? I’ve been fucking playing nice, don’t make me start to choose who you talk to” she grunted and her grip tightened “Tell your friend to stop touching what’s mine”

“I’m not-“

“Do not finish that sentence” she whispered, her fingers digging into your neck that for a moment you swore she could break you if she tried enough “Because it sounds to me like you need a fucking reminder” she finally loosened her grip when your face turned red and you coughed “On your knees”

“The floor is filthy” you defended and her hands pushed you down “Romanoff” you warned but she ignored you.

“Open up” she commanded and you pursed your lips, making her roll her eyes with annoyance. One hand grabbed your chin and the other one pinched your nose. And you held your breath as long as you could until you finally gave in “Stop making this harder on yourself” she gritted her teeth when she pushed two fingers inside your mouth and you bit her “I’m serious. Suck or you will only make it worse” she warned you and as much as you wanted to see how far you could push, you sucked her finger “Good girl”

After a couple of minutes, she pulled out her fingers and crouched before you. Her fingers tugged your hair as she kissed you roughly and as much as you wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening, you knew your underwear was more than ruined by now.

However, that didn’t stop you from keep defying her when she broke the kiss and smirked. And what you did wasn’t so lady-like of you, but she cornered you and you were still upset with her.

You spat on her face.

“Fuck you” you grunted as her eyes closed and she exhaled slowly.

Her thumb cleaned her face and then she licked it, green eyes focused on you more angry than before but also extremely turned on.

“That’s it, we are leaving” she said and reached for you backpack, already knowing where you kept the car keys “I was planning on only making you skip one class, but now I’m deadly serious”

“I’m not leaving with you” you whimpered as she pulled you up with force. You weren’t so sure about the logistics of her next movements, but Natasha managed to hoist you over her shoulder and carried both backpacks as she made her way out of the closet “Put me down, you moron”

“Why don’t you shut up?” she said calmly and ignoring curious looks of people that walk past you as she made her way to your car.

“This is the last time we ride together” you grunted, tiny fists still trying to punch her as if that would make Natasha change her mind.

“No, it’s not. And if you keep it up, I will make you come to college in the bike and not the car” she warned and you huffed. She threw your backpacks on the backseat and then gently sat you down on the passenger seat. Buckling your seatbelt and pecking your cheek as you kept frowning “Are you seriously keeping up the act?”

“Are you seriously an idiot?” you snapped back and flipped her off “I’ll jump out of the car”

“It’s an empty threat” she shrugged and leaned closer “Because if you really wanted to do it, you wouldn’t warn me”

“You know what? Fuck you, Romanoff”

“That’s exactly what I’m planning to do. Over and over again until you remember your fucking place” she smirked and you whimpered “And if I have to keep you in lockdown tomorrow and do everything all over again until you are fucking dripping with my cum and you forget your name” her face got closer to yours “I will do it”

“No one has that much stamina” you retorted but your knees clasped together and she chuckled.

“It’s sounds like a challenge to me” she kissed your lips and bit your lip, finally coaxing a moan out of your throat “Now, shut up”

“Or what?”

But she just smirked and closed the door.

(—)

The redhead drove painfully slow and as much as you wanted to say you got turned off during the ride, she made sure that didn’t happen.

Her hand sneaked under your skirt and her fingers pressed over your clit, fastening her movements to make you break and slowing down when your moans turned desperate. And every time you tried to start scolding her, she turned up the music up and started again.

By the time you arrived to your building, your underwear was officially trash. Your legs were wobbly and even if you wanted to walk, Natasha didn’t give you a chance.

She opened the door, startling Amelia that was cleaning the kitchen and Natasha greeted her cheerfully as she dropped your backpacks inside the closet and smacked the back of your thigh when you tried to scream.

“Don’t mind her, she’s moody” Natasha said softly and pecked Amelia’s cheek “Amy, why don’t you take the rest of the day off, hm?”

“But Ms Natasha…” Amy started softly and you grinned proudly.

“Yes, Ms Natasha, let sweet Amy do her job” you cheered and whimpered when Natasha slapped your thigh again “Stop that”

“You shut up” Natasha said firmly and smiled at the woman “I’ll pay double”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-“

“One hundred percent sure, Ames” Natasha smiled truthfully “Text me the details for a transfer or do you want it in cash?”

“Transfer is alright” she mumbled shyly and Natasha nodded “Do you want me to leave dinner ready?”

“No, it’s okay. We’ll order takeout” the redhead replied and pecked her cheek again, slapping your thigh again when you started to protest “See you tomorrow, Ames”

You sighed defeated and waved at Amelia when she looked at you half worried but extremely amused. Out of everyone that could be traumatised by you two, Amelia got it the worse. But she never said anything, not once. She just looked at you both knowingly and didn’t judge.

If anything, she was the first one to notice you two were falling in love before anyone else.

Natasha walked to her room and ignored your whines when you said you wanted your bed. As if she would care what you wanted. Besides, the redhead had been waiting to add something to your sex life.

She planned on proposing it to you after the date but with your attitude that day, she knew the perfect moment arrived.

The redhead locked the door and put you down. She almost expected you to try to run but instead, Natasha got a slap followed by kiss.

Your hand sneaked inside her sweatpants and wrapped around her cock, jerking her off as you kissed her and she moaned. For a second, she lost focus as her mind felt hazy and drunk on you.

But when her hips moved closer to yours, you broke the kiss and pulled out your hand as you smirked.

“It doesn’t feel nice to be fucking teased, right?” you pushed her and she growled “Now, the games were fun and all but if I leave now I’ll make it to my last class. Give me the keys”

“You really are something else” she snorted and walked inside her closet. You heard her unlocking her safe and she placed there your phones, the car keys and the bike keys just in case and locked it again.

“You are fucking kidding me” you groaned when she walked out “This is kidnapping. I’m officially being kidnapped”

“You and I know that’s not how kidnapping works, princess” she rolled her eyes at your dramatic sigh “Strip”

“You can take my things, but you won’t fuck me” you flipped her off and sat at the edge of the bed “Besides, I’m already turned off”

“Wanna bet?” she raised a brow and laughed when you crossed your legs. She crouched before you and fingers caressed your thigh “I’ll ask one last time and as a demonstration of how much I respect you”

“Respect me? If you respected me, you wouldn’t be fucking flirting with anything that moves” you snarled and she breathed out heavily.

“Yes, I respect you. Maybe you don’t believe me now, but I don’t want anyone else” she said softly as your body trembled with anger but your heart fluttered “As I was saying, I’ll say this one last time or you will regret it” she warned you “Strip”

“How about you go and fuck yourself, hm?” you turned your face to the side with your chin up and Natasha scoffed but said nothing.

Instead, she stood up and pulled you up along with her. At first, it looked innocent when her fingers traced your collarbone and then played with the neck of your blouse. But then, both hands tugged the fabric and started to tear it apart.

You gasped and looked at her in awe.

She tossed your ruined blouse onto the floor and did the same thing with your skirt, ignoring you when you tried to stop her. The redhead was only satisfied when your underwear joined the rest of the your clothes and took a step back to admire your naked body.

“Don’t act so surprised, princess. I warned you” she shrugged and when you tried to slap her, she stopped you “And stop acting like I won’t take you to the Fifth Avenue and buy you pretty clothes” she added and you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck you, Romanoff” you spat and she remained unbothered “Those clothes…”

“… were touched by Tyler” she sentenced and got closer “Stop fighting me. Stop fighting this” her lips brushed yours and her thumb traced your jaw “You are mine but most importantly, I am yours”

Natasha kissed you before you could even think of something to say. A kiss that tasted like the absolute truth along with a promise. It was heated, desperate and powerful. Your skin tingled and the world muffled around you.

A part of you wanted to keep fighting and Natasha kept you in line without trying that hard. A reminder that no matter how sweet she was lately, in bed she would always have total control over you. The redhead didn’t even ask for it, you gave it to her and she used it wisely.

So with you behaving like a fucking brat and with Natasha needing to prove a lot of things to you and herself, it was inevitable that she had to overpower you.

Someone needed to put you back in place. Not someone, Natasha did. Only she knew how and when, even if you hated to admit that she had started to know you too well. And her words remained as the truth.

She was yours and you were hers.

Silently, she broke the kiss and walked to her nightstand. Opened a drawer and pulled out a red ribbon and you raised a brow but she didn’t even grin. No, it was a moment to be serious.

It was a day to make a fucking statement.

Natasha stood behind you and grabbed your arms gently, folding them on your back and securing your wrists in silence. The redhead took her time to check you were safe and then moved around you.

“Do you really want to stop?” she asked carefully.

“No” you admitted and stood on your tiptoes to kiss her “Thank you for asking”

“Always” she pecked your lips one last time and when back to position “Well, in that case, let’s put you back in place”

“You know, being dominant doesn’t suit you” that was a fucking lie because your thighs were dripping with your slick. She ran a finger over your slit and licked it “That means nothing. Actually, I think that’s Tyler’s work”

Natasha snorted “Sure it is. You are such a bad liar”

“Am I? There was a moment when you weren’t watching” you smirked and her eyes darkened “We are friends, but friends kiss sometimes right? You taught me that” Natasha growled and she wasn’t so sure if you were just provoking her or telling the truth now “And since you and I are nothing, I thought finding out if his lips were as soft as they looked wouldn’t hurt”

“Enough” she snarled and you looked at her amused, green eyes even more darkened than before as you watched her lose patience “You are playing with fire”

“I don’t think I am” you shrugged, your eyes glancing down and you smirked at the sight of her bulge and looked at her “I think he is bigger even, my hand actually…”

Natasha pushed you down with force, making you drop on your knees and pushed her sweatpants down. Her cock sprung out against your face and you instinctively opened your mouth.

The redhead would’ve mocked you if her blood wasn’t boiling because of your words, so she only limited herself to push her dick inside and all the way to the back of your throat. You tried to move your hands and the ribbon kept you in place, leaving you at Natasha’s mercy.

“Did you want him to do this to you, hm?” she uttered and her hips moved back slowly just to push herself again with more force and your eyes started burning “Because I don’t think he would be able to stuff your mouth like I do” she repeated her motions and you choked and she tutted “Breathe through your nose, princess. That’s it, just like that”

Natasha kept fucking your mouth like you were a freaking fleshlight. And you tried to hold back tears, still refusing to give in but your body was now reacting on its own.

Your mascara was ruined in seconds, your face red as she deep throated you and you weren’t sure how was that possible when at that point you’ve given her a fair amount of blowjobs. Was she holding back all this time?

She pulled out and placed her cock over your face. You swallowed and panted.

“I think I should take a picture, your face is the perfect reference to prove my size” Natasha smirked and you growled.

“Fuck y-“ but the redhead pushed her dick back and raised a brow as you glared at her.

“I should send him a fucking picture” she whimpered as one of her hands tugged your hair and she jerked her hips “He dares to call you angel but forgets Lucifer was once an angel too” she smiled devilish as your face started turning red again, the vein in your forehead popping “What would you do if people knew that the cute little angel they all worship is nothing but a fucking slut for my cock?” you growled and your teeth threatened to bite her and she tutted “None of that. I will pull out and you will apologise for even thinking about it”

Natasha pulled out slowly, wearing her insufferable smirk that was driving you crazy and making you resist even when you knew you already lost the battle.

But you would push until she fucking destroyed you.

The redhead raised her brow expectantly and you licked your lips. Taking a deep breath as you looked down for a moment, and she believed you were done fighting when you looked up with doe eyes.

“I’m sorry” you started and she hummed proudly, you cleared your throat and then your cute eyes sparked with mischief and your smirk grew “I’m sorry I’m thinking of…”

Natasha silenced you again with her cock and she went rougher, taking only a moment to get rid of her tee as sweat rolled down her forehead and glistened her body.

And maybe she wasn’t aware of the effect her body had on you, but at the sight of her naked upper half your will-power started to break inside you.

Your throat relaxed even more and your nose brushed her abdomen as she grabbed your head with both hands.

“There’s my good girl” she moaned as you gagged around her cock, noticing the way your body started to relax when she helped you bobbed your head “Let’s try it again, shall we? Apologise for everything and I will reward you with my cum in that pretty mouth, yes?”

She pulled back and your lips popped at the tip. Natasha took a second to admire the work of art you were. Mascara ruined, tears still streaming down, your chin coated with drool and pre-cum and your pupils fully blown out.

Natasha waited as you took a deep breath and your lower lip trembled.

“I’m sorry, daddy” you mumbled and she smirked.

“What was that, princess?” she asked with feigned concern and you closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.

“I’m sorry, daddy” you gritted your teeth with a fake smile and Natasha’s smirk faded.

The redhead crouched in front of you and her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard enough that you were sure she was definitely imprinting her fingers around your neck. Her jaw tightened and she leaned closer.

“You will apologise again. And you will fucking mean it” she ordered as your eyelids looked heavy and your ears started ringing “From the top, princess”

You gasped when she let you go, you coughed for a few seconds as your mind started feeling way more hazy and your head started spinning. But the worst part was the ache between your legs; you were sure that if you looked down, your slick would be pooling on the floor.

“I’m really sorry, daddy” you said in total surrender, your watery eyes looking at green ones that twinkled with pride “I’m so sorry for everything”

Natasha brushed her thumb over your swollen lips and kissed you tenderly as her fingers caressed your cheek. She pressed her forehead against yours and brushed her nose against yours.

“That’s my good girl” she whispered and pecked your lips “You are forgiven, princess. I believe I promised you a reward, but before I do that… Open up” you did as told and Natasha’s fingers lifted your chin, a drizzle of her saliva made it to your mouth and you didn’t know it was possible to get more wet “Swallow, princess” you did it and she smiled “Good girl”

Natasha stood up and her breath hitched when finally your resistance left and you looked at her with devotion. You told her silently you were still hers.

Only hers.

The redhead pushed one last time her cock and now was gentle, knowing that your jaw was probably burning but you silently pleaded her to go rough.

She whimpered and started to fuck your mouth as you wanted. Natasha focused on your gagging noises, the way your mouth wrapped around her and how you let her guide you with not an ounce of resistance. As if you were letting her know you were her toy, you were hers to use however she pleased.

“Fuck, princess, you look so pretty like that” her thrusts fastened and her fingers tugged your hair and you whimpered “Yes, you are my pretty slut aren’t you? Not Tyler’s, mine” your eyes rolled back at her words, it was the sense of belonging, knowing she wanted to own you in every way — drove you to the edge too “My princess. My slut. Mine”

Your moan was muffled by her cock but the waves sent more pleasure to Natasha and she tossed her head back, and with a few more rough and fast thrusts she looked at you and spilled inside of your mouth, pulling your head all the way down until your nose brushed her skin.

Natasha screamed your name and you came without being touched. Enjoying every delicious second of being used by her.

She pulled out and watched the way you swallowed, your eyes as hazy as your mind. You licked your lips and she leaned to brush your now dry tears.

“You are so fucking perfect” she pulled you up and kissed you tenderly. You whimpered as she undid the ribbon and guided you to the bed “We are not done, princess. I need you to understand who you belong to”

You nodded eagerly, brattiness long gone as she manhandled you in bed. She raised your arms and tied them to the headboard with the ribbon.

And Natasha started to work.

The last few days, she stopped marking your body after your mother’s words and it was also driving you crazy. But that Thursday, she forgot about it, she stopped caring because your mother would never understand the burning need to own you.

You were something so precious, so perfect and so easy to lose if Natasha wasn’t careful. The redhead needed the world to know that every inch of your body as hers now, that she wasn’t stepping down but she would fight for you.

But most importantly, marking you as hers was also giving herself to you. She had never done it with anyone else, maybe she should mention that to you so you believed her when she said she was yours.

So every bruise made over your body that day was a statement, a promise, an oath and the liberty to show them all that you were the only one she wanted.

Natasha left a trail of bruises all over your skin. She started with your neck as always, then with your collarbone, then came your chest and that was usually where she stopped but that day she went down.

Bruises were made over your ribs, your abdomen, the curve of your hipbones. It was ownership and worshipping because she went for every part of your body that she adored.

And you were a moaning mess, pulling the ribbon and jerking your hips as you felt the way you got wetter. And when she reached your thighs and marked them too, you were about to lose it.

“Daddy, please, I need you” you begged, voice raspy and sore, and Natasha hummed.

“I know, princess, but I’m working” she said licking your thigh over the bruise she left “I’m almost done”

You mewled as Natasha continued and when she was finished, she knelt to look at you. Your body was covered in bruises, marks that looked perfect over your milky skin.

A true masterpiece.

She leaned and spread your legs. You gasped when her lips wrapped around your swollen clit and your vision blurred. It was like your senses were heightened and Natasha was a starved woman.

You loved when she went down on you but that day she did it with intention. Reminding you that no one would ever make you feel like that.

Natasha Romanoff did ruin you for everyone.

You jerked your hips up, and she let you use her face. Her nose, her lips and her chin coated with your slick. And she usually would use her fingers, but you were so desperate that the redhead knew her mouth would be enough.

Your moans turned into desperate screams. You chanted her name like a prayer and Natasha felt how she was getting hard again.

You pressed your face against your arm, hands pulling the ribbon as your hips moved and Natasha’s tongue swirled all over your cunt. And your head turned heavy, buzzing with pleasure as you came all over her face.

Both moaned as Natasha helped down from your high. You were a panting mess, legs trembling as she gave you kitten licks and kissed your inner thighs and then crawled up.

Natasha hovered your body and noticed your dreamy eyes. She kissed you again, letting you taste yourself with a sloppy kiss. You whimpered, feeling the way your head was fighting to keep focus but a floaty feeling started to take over.

“One more, princess” Natasha murmured against your lips “You are doing amazing” you moaned at her words, the praises wrapping your floaty mind as she pushed herself inside “You are mine and I’m yours”

Natasha’s movements were slow at first, enjoying the way you were moaning and unable to talk. And she could’ve mocked you, degrade you a little more but she was now aware of your state.

The redhead read about subspace, she always played with the idea of how interesting would be to watch someone like that. And now that she was aware that you were entering that state, she understood how beautiful it was.

But she needed to be careful.

Her movements went faster when you whimpered impatiently. Natasha almost giggled because even when you now couldn’t talk, your bossy self of course was still alive.

The redhead gave it to you; she would give you anything you asked. She lifted your legs up to her shoulders and fucked you with purpose.

She reduced you to nothing but a moaning and whimpering mess and Natasha was right there with you. Her hips jerking as she pounded you desperately.

Velvety walls started to clench around her cock and she tried to hold back until you came first. Her thumb rubbed your clit and you screamed, your back arching as your hands pulled the ribbon trying to ground yourself.

When you finally came and your face contorted with nothing but pleasure, Natasha swore it was the most beautiful image she had ever witnessed. And that was more than enough to make her cum inside you.

You both moaned, your eyes trying to focus on her as you felt the way she was filling you up. But your vision was blurred and you just whimpered enjoying the fullness.

Natasha slowed down, grunting when she kept fucking her cum inside of you. And when she finally pulled out, you winced — already missing the contact.

The redhead was careful with you. She placed your legs slowly down to the bed and you whined when she walked to her closet, going directly to her bathroom and bringing back some lotion.

It was like watching a silent movie, being there but not really. Floaty mind and blurry eyes following carefully Natasha’s movements as she undid the ribbon and rubbed lotion in your wrists.

Then she rubbed your body with more lotion and you whined again when she left your side. But she came back with baby wipes and cleaned you up.

Her sheets were ruined along with your clothes and maybe yourself. And Natasha couldn’t find in herself to care.

Once she was done, she got rid of her sports bra so you could have skin to skin contact. You weren’t vulnerable, you were safe.

Natasha wrapped her arms around your limped body, pulling you closer and you managed to wrap yourself around her. She smiled when you nuzzled her neck and placed a soft kiss.

“I’m truly yours” Natasha whispered and kissed your forehead “Did you really kiss him?” she asked nervously and you just shook your head, still unable to talk as your mind settled “So you said it to piss me off” she chuckled and your grip tightened around her body “Well, you are mine right?” and the reply came in form of a soft kiss, a simple and truthful ‘yes’.

The redhead hummed and held you close. Letting you drift away between her arms as she whispered sweet nothings, praises that didn’t come with conditions but sounded like the truth.

And if the last few weeks weren’t enough to clarify your feelings and intentions with Natasha, that Thursday you came to the same conclusion as the redhead did days before:

You were so fucked because it wasn’t your body craving her only. Your heart did it too with an intensity that almost hurt.

However, you were ready.

(—)

Sadly for Natasha, sex didn’t make you forget.

It wasn’t that you were holding a grudge. In fact, you weren’t even mad anymore because Natasha did fuck you good and made sure you were fine at all times. But, of course, she had to grin triumphantly once you came back to your senses.

At first, you spent some more time in bed making out and fucked at least two more times even when your body was sore and your mind was threatening to shut down.

The night arrived and the redhead ordered takeout against your will, but you ate a little and drank way too much water as if you spent a month in the desert.

And when she wrapped your body in clean sheets and pulled you closer, you took a moment to be real with her before going back to make her suffer.

“I think I needed that” you started, eyes focused on your fingers tracing circles over her abdomen “but I need to say something”

“Is this about that girl-“ she started and you slapped her stomach “That hurt” she whined and you looked up.

“Good, you deserve it but we will get there” you huffed but pecked her jawline “I want to start by saying I appreciate the effort” you went back to caress her abdomen and Natasha hummed “but I don’t need you to coddle me when my mother makes an appearance” you said softly and Natasha grabbed your chin tenderly and made you look at her.

“What do you mean? Do you call what we just did coddle?” she smirked and you rolled your eyes “Kinky”

“No, asshole. I meant all your…” you pursed your lips trying to find the words “attempts to cheer me up after that day. You were so sweet that it was almost scaring me” Natasha chuckled and you slapped her stomach again “I’m serious. And don’t get me wrong, I liked it but I needed to feel normal” you sighed and rested your head over her chest “not like you were taking pity on me because my mother is a bitch”

Natasha’s fingers caressed your naked back, looking at the ceiling as she gave it a thought. She didn’t feel pity towards you, your mother was indeed a total bitch but maybe the redhead did try to compensate for all the things your mother didn’t give you.

She wanted to protect you, even when she knew how strong you were.

“I’m sorry” she said softly and kissed the top of your head “It wasn’t pity, but well your mother is…” she cleared her throat nervously, you weren’t dating yet and maybe trashing your family wouldn’t be a great idea “… a complex woman”

You snorted and looked at her “You can say it. She’s a bitch” you giggled and pecked her lips “but nice job, Romanoff. You are not so stupid after all”

“I have my moments” she grinned and that’s when you remembered that Natasha wasn’t free from torment. You straddled her lap and the redhead raised a brow with amusement “Again? I can do it” she smirked, and her hands started to roam your body but you smacked them.

“Now, let’s discuss something way more important” you announced and Natasha swallowed nervously when she noticed the glint of mischievousness in your eyes. Your fingers dug into her cheeks, squeezing and pressing so hard her face ached “First, I am sick of your fan club. I don’t care about all the chicks you’ve fucked but I sure as hell don’t need to know who they were”

“But I can’t control-“ she managed to say and you squeezed harder, leaning closer and she gulped again.

“You can and you will. I don’t know how you will keep your bitches in line, but if I have to deal with one more of them” your nose brushed hers and she squeaked, you looked terrifying “you will wish you had kept it in your pants all these years”

You let her go and Natasha let out a heavy breath as she tried to adjust her jaw and rubbed her cheeks. Seriously, people thought you were so kind and caring when in reality you were a tiny monster ready to kill. But she knew the truth, the real you.

Only Natasha dared to dance with the devil, though.

“You know that’s a very long list of-“ you threatened to slap her and she raised her hands in surrender “I’ll deal with it, yeah. In fact, I know how” she smiled sheepishly and you raised a brow with your hand still in the air “Go out with me”

You lowered your hand, tapping your chin as if you were giving it a thought. The yes was on the tip of your tongue, but Natasha didn’t deserve to get things easy. No, she deserved to suffer.

You sighed and she looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“No” you replied dryly and her eyes widened, tainted with something in between fear and disbelief.

“What do you mean no? But we agreed-“ she stuttered and sat with you still in her lap, hands holding your hips as if that would ground her.

“No, you said you were going to take me on a date” you retorted and Natasha grimaced “I didn’t say I would accept”

“But I- please?” she pouted and you tilted your head slightly to the side “Friday. Next week. You, me, and a wonderful date I already planned” Natasha offered at your lack of response.

You were being mean, you knew as much when her lower lip trembled and she swallowed nervously. But green eyes kept looking at you hopeful and caring. And even then, you weren’t about to make it easy for her.

No, because she had her fun.

Natasha degraded you, fucked you, made you skip all your fucking classes and dragged you around campus as if you were nothing but a rag doll. And yes, you enjoyed every second of it — except the classes part, but it was one day. But she was fucking flirting in front of you and she thought she got away with it by giving you the best sex of your life.

“I’m busy” you shrugged and she frowned “Why don’t you ask Hayley out, hm?”

Natasha whined, collapsing against the bed again and she grabbed one pillow, placed it over her face and screamed. And you pursed your lips trying to hold back laughter, watching her throw a tantrum and when you were about to climb down her lap, she stopped you and looked at you with her face red and pouty.

“I don’t want her, didn’t I make that clear?” she asked looking down your body with all the bruises and you followed her gaze and gasped, looking at her in disbelief “Oh yes, princess. Ownership never looked so beautiful”

You smacked her arm and stood up to look at yourself in the mirror of her bathroom.

The redhead moulded you. Officially you were a crime scene with all the bruises over your skin. And your mind ran all the possible combinations of clothes to hide at least most of them and you whined when you realised there was no way you would be able to hide all of that.

You stormed back and Natasha kept grinning so proud of herself that you didn’t regret making her suffer. You grabbed a pillow and started to punch her with it.

“You. Stupid. Asshole” you grunted and she laughed “What the fuck is wrong with you? You know my workout clothes won’t cover all of these right?” you kept going and Natasha only laughed, doing the bare minimum to stop you “I have a life outside campus, I have dance practice too!”

Natasha finally grabbed your wrists, tossed the pillow onto the floor and pushed you down over the bed. Hovering your body and wearing a smirk.

“Good, now everyone will know you have an owner” she kissed your neck and you huffed.

“I’m not a fucking dog” you whimpered “And I don’t have clothes for this”

“Wear mine” she suggested and you huffed again.

“There’s no way in hell I will look like an expensive homeless person” you grunted and she looked at you with a grin “How am I suppose to style that?”

“You will manage” she shrugged and you rolled your eyes “Go out with me”

“No”

“Go out with me, please”

“I said no”

“I’ll do anything for a yes”

And maybe Natasha should’ve known better, but she meant every word. That didn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine when you smirked devilishly.

“Anything?” you asked innocently.

Natasha weighted the idea of taking it back but she was afraid that it was the only way for you to agree.

“Yes, anything” she said softly.

In a swift move you rolled your bodies again and straddled her abdomen. You lifted her arms above her head and held her down, your body leaning close and she felt her cock twitch.

“You have exactly one week to prove me, I’m the only one” you started, softly and sweetly. A tone that made her believe you weren’t asking for much, because that was easy. She could do it, right?

“Done. So is that a yes?” she breathed out when you moved closer to her neck and you licked it.

“Oh, I’m not done, Ms Romanoff” you whispered in her ear and she swallowed “One week of no flirting with anyone” you looked at her, nails tracing her collarbone as if they were a knife “One week to learn how to fucking control those curious eyes” you continued and she bit her lower lip.

“I can do that” she stuttered when your hips moved lower, feeling her hard on against your cunt but it was as if you were immune to her for once. You didn’t even moan “Consider it done”

You chuckled, a sound so sweet that Natasha knew you were about to throw the real bomb on her.

“One week to train your dick to only get hard for me” you continued, watching her carefully and she gulped “I know when you look for me all turned on and it wasn’t me who did that” you shrugged, hand wrapping around her length and she whimpered when you placed the tip in your entrance.

“Princess, I’m only human” she breathed out and you pushed your hips down her dick, making her moan but again it was like she did nothing to you “I see a cute girl and my body-“

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to go out with me” you said with feigned confusion “My apologies, Ms Romanoff. Let me get out of-“

“No! Wait” she whined desperately before you could move away and you smirked, clenching your walls and she moaned “I’ll do it. You-“ you rolled your hips and she whimpered “you are the only cute girl in my eyes…”

“Mhm, go on”

“The only one I want” she stuttered as you kept moving your hips “I- I will do it, I’m yours, just please-“

“Please what, Ms Romanoff? Please don’t stop? Please go out with me?” you grinned, moving a little faster and Natasha moaned louder.

“Both” she exhaled desperately and you smiled.

“In that case, let me finish my conditions” you leaned closer to her ear and she grunted “One week of no sex. Not with me. Not with anyone”

“But princess-“ you straightened up and raised a brow, staying still with her deep inside of you. You squeezed her dick again and she moaned “Yes, fine. No sex”

“Look at you, so obedient” you caressed her cheek and leaned to kiss her roughly, as she moaned and jerked her hips up trying to move “And like you said…” you whispered against her lips “As a demonstration of the respect I have for you” you rolled your hips and Natasha knew this was her punishment, a delicious one “You can fuck me one last time before you start with your detox. Enjoy, daddy!”

And it took everything in her not to cum right then and there, because she just signed her death sentence. But the redhead knew it was going to be worth it.

You were worth it.

———

For more chapters, visit: series masterlist

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐥

18+ MINORS DNI

or: you have pregnancy brain

part of the short n’ sweet universe

a/n: im starting to regret my decision to name all the sns fics after sabrina’s songs 💔 but hey i just realized im slowly catching up with my requests so at least that’s something; this one is based on this request

summary: you have pregnancy brain and it drives both you and nat to insanity; if you remember that part in 'juno' where they look at apartments — that is kinda where this chapter picks up

warnings: smut (fingering, penetration/riding, handjob), cursing, pregnancy (is that a warning? idk); not sure if i forgot anything but ngl it’s pretty innocent aside from the smut

word count: 8.2k

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

An oversized shirt, nothing underneath, and a cup of instant noodles in your hand. It's quiet in your dorm. Outside, the sun is just coming up.

You count the minutes. Finally, Natasha bursts into your dorm in nothing but shorts and an undershirt, her hair curly at the ends and her eyes showing just how little she's been sleeping.

"What's the emergency?", she asks, dropping off a backpack and kicking off her sneakers. "Are you eating noodles?"

"Blob got hungry", you say, padding to her side. You kiss her cheek. She smells like the body wash she stole from Clint that time you hooked up in his bathroom. "Where were you last night?"

Natasha seems to shrink when you ask her that. She's a good head taller than you, yet she could just as well be a few inches shorter. When you raise your eyebrows at her, she nearly combusts.

Breathless and sweating even more now, she rubs the back of her head. "You were asleep, I was all sweaty from practice, it was like 2am when we got home from-"

"Okay."

She starts panicking even more. She didn't even do anything — her team went to a local fast food spot after practice. They grabbed burgers and beer, blasted music in the car (still sweaty and gross), drove back to their dorms and sat on the stairs for another ten minutes. Her record, at least the one from last night, is spotless. Yet, she's trying to talk her way out of a situation that never occurred.

"I missed you", she adds. You roll your eyes and turn around, drinking the leftover broth before throwing the empty cup away. "How's the baby?"

"Being a little shit. I slept four hours last night. I ate a family sized bag of chips."

Natasha quickly glances at the trash can. Chester Cheetah is grinning at her, crumpled up and surrounded by the color baby blue.

"That's fine. Good. You treated yourself", she says, coming up behind you. Her hands cup your stomach.

Your bump is just starting to show — though it's still tiny, so nobody really notices. Natasha, however, could tell the second it started to curve just a little more.

You scoff, but lean into her anyway. Her hands push up the thin fabric of your shirt to settle on your bare, warm skin. She tugs you closer and you feel her bulge through her sweatpants. Morning wood. She probably tried to get rid of it, but failed due to you texting her 'SOS'.

"Not good." You pause, then put your hands on hers. "Did you get an email?"

Natasha's distracted. Her face is nuzzling your neck, kissing and sucking occasionally. Her fingers start rubbing your stomach. It's annoying, to say the least, especially because the morning sickness is finally gone — instead, your libido is in overdrive. You curse quietly.

"Nat!"

"What?", she mutters. She puts her chin on your shoulder and squints at the mess on your desk. "Jesus. You need to tidy up a bit."

"Did you get an email?", you repeat, ignoring what she said.

Confused, she glances at you. "What email?"

"You know", you say, trying to remember the name of the landlord, "Mr. Noodle."

She doesn't burst out laughing. Instead, her entire body shakes with the effort of keeping it in. Her biceps flex against your sides, and her cheeks turn red from stifling her laughter.

You're both aware the pregnancy has had a toll on your body — your entire body. Brain included, apparently. Hearing her laugh about your mistake isn't funny at all, though, so you try to elbow whatever spot of her you can reach.

"Come on, it's funny!"

"You know I meant Mr. Norman!"

"Yes", she says, still keeping it in, "I do know  that. I didn't check my emails yet."

"What?!" You quickly pull away. Natasha whines at the loss of contact — her boner is back in full force, and though your sex drive hasn't decreased, you're thinking about something entirely different now. "Nat, the apartment!"

"Babe, it's 6 in the-"

"Your phone", you demand, arms crossed. "Now."

She sighs, then wordlessly hands the device to you. You open her emails, check them, then click on the one that was sent to her the day before — Dave Norman, subject line: Rental Application.

The email confirms it — you're one of three applicants that are being considered.

"Please respond soon", you read one of the last couple of lines he sent. "Why didn't you!"

"I forgot!", she says, moving to drop down onto your bed. Her muscles still hurt from practice the day before. "Fucking hell, this is nice. Come join."

You let out a sound that says 'you wish.' You type out a response instead, pacing the room and ignoring her presence on your bed.

"Idiot", you state, tossing her phone at her once you're done. She manages to catch it before it hits her in the head. "We're being considered for the apartment."

"Yeah?" Her eyes light up immediately. She reaches out her hands for you, wiggling her calloused fingers, and you sigh before walking to her side. "Baby, those are great news!"

You try to sit down, but she's quicker. Within a split second, you're on your side and fighting to flip onto your back. You grab her hip and use it as support.

"It is", you say, glaring at her. At least you're not heavily pregnant yet, otherwise your unfortunate athletic performance might've been accompanied by grunting. "Check your fucking emails next time. We don't have forever. This is New York, we should be glad we're already being considered."

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry." She kisses your temple, her shorts still a tent. "It's a nice apartment, isn't it?"

It is. It's close to campus, but not too close — not close enough to have students stumbling around everywhere. There's a café nearby, as well as a small playground that isn't covered in graffiti and cigarette butts. No drug addicts, no feces in the streets.

The apartment itself is small. Two bedrooms, a living and dining space, and a kitchen. A bathroom, too, with a shower bath, and a tiny balcony that might fit a kiddie pool if you're lucky.

"That's why you better not fuck around", you warn her. She sighs and her fingers wander underneath your shirt, toying with the panties you're wearing. "One-track mind, I swear."

"You're wet", Natasha points out. She circles your clit lazily. "You'll be less cranky post-nut."

"Doubt that", you retort. Your body betrays you, though.

Uneven breathing, slowly turning more labored. Your thighs are sticky already. When she presses down against you, your hips jerk.

She grins, but she's too close to coming to risk anything. "Knew it."

"Shut up", you groan, watching her tug down her shorts. She climbs on top and thrusts in, both of you moaning. "You better make sure not to forget anything anymore. I can't always save the day, you know."

In that moment, with her buried so deep inside of you, you have no idea that you'd forget more than just your name soon.

. . .

Usually, you're the one to keep the ship from sinking. You write down important information, recall it when needed, remind Natasha of the things she deems unnecessary. Thanks to a cocktail of hormones, insomnia and increased stress, however, that's changed.

It's sudden, at least to you it feels like it is. But Natasha has been noticing it over the past few weeks, and with every day, it becomes more obvious.

You mixing up noodle and Norman was just one of many incidents to come. The morning of the final interview for the apartment, you think you've thought of everything — makeup, clothes, a 'wedding ring' on your finger to make him believe you're responsible. You don't account for the bad case of pregnancy brain, though.

It starts at breakfast. You accidentally put salt into Natasha's coffee. She drinks the first half with a straight face, then gags and confesses. You pour the salty coffee down the drain.

An hour later, you're in the car. Again, you're not the one to notice — Natasha is. She glances at you and nearly pulls over the car.

"Put your seatbelt on!"

"What?" You glance down at you and huff. "Oh, right. Crap."

"That's dangerous", she adds, briefly looking at you once more. "You good?"

"Fine", you brush it off. You can see the apartment complex appear in the distance, surrounded by more buildings and standing right next to a park.

The landlord welcomes you with a bowl of oatmeal cookies. He seems to like you, which is good. You're pregnant and picky and hormonal, though, which is bad.

You say hi and smile. You shake his hand. You grab a cookie and follow him to the dining table. The moment you bite into the cookie, your face twists.

"Who the hell made these?"

Both Natasha and Mr. Norman pause, although for very different reasons. Your girlfriend clears her throat, her ears beginning to redden, and the landlord gestures at one of the chairs. He forces a smile.

"Me. It's my late grandmother's recipe. Sit, sit."

"Oh", you say dumbly. You hesitate, then shove the rest of the cookie into Natasha's hand. She glances at you before caving and finishing it. "My condolences."

"It's fine. It's been over two decades, so..." He pauses and then taps the stack of documents in front of him. "I have to say, you're my current favorites. There's two other applications, newlyweds and a kid that just graduated with a bachelor's degree. The newlyweds keep fighting and the kid doesn't seem like he'd thrive in an area like this one. Plus, he's a Knicks fan. Very unfortunate. What about you?"

"Nets rule", Natasha says, as earnestly as possible. You're about to open your mouth, but she quickly knocks her knee against yours. "We never fight."

"'Never' is one hell of an overstatement", you mumble.

They're not bad fights, per se — but arguments and bickering occur routinely. Usually, they lead to make up sex, which is why neither of you has made any effort to stop it from happening. So saying that you never fight is just not true.

Saying that during an interview, without any context, is a bad idea, though. Natasha nearly combusts, her face feeling hotter by the second, and Mr. Norman scratches his ear. He nods and opens the folder in front of him.

"Here's all the necessary information on the apartment. Rent, utilities, yada yada yada. You got a copy the last time you were here, but if there's any questions..."

"It's all clear", you confirm — saying the first smart thing that morning. "Love the balcony."

"Right?" He smiles and nods, overly proud of his tiny little balcony. As of now, there's a coffee table and two chairs on it. A dying plant, too, but nothing else. "It's the view that I like. Very unobstructed. You can spot campus from here."

"Yes", Natasha says, perking up. "Like I said, I have a scholarship. Team captain, you know. Our parents still support us, but I have a summer job, and once we finish our degrees-"

"You'll be unstoppable", he agrees. "Yes, yes. The unstable income worries me a little, but to be honest, the newlyweds aren't better. She's a daycare teacher, he got fired last month and is now on a job hunt. Good thing they pulled off that wedding at the registry, would've meant their financial ruin otherwise. What was your wedding like?"

For some unfortunate reason, he looks right at you. Pale blue eyes, almost watery, and graying eyebrows. First signs of aging have appeared on his face. Why you're focusing on his features instead of the question is a mystery, but Natasha's sweating bullets when she notices the look on your face.

"Oh yeah", you finally blurt, twisting the faux wedding ring on your finger. "Our wedding. Really romantic. In the middle of the, uh, Cotswolds. Live jazz band."

You swear you can hear the woman next to you wheeze, but when you look at her, all you see are wide eyes and lips squeezed shut. A wedding in the Cotswolds costs half a fortune — even she's aware of that. Given that you're college students, there's no way in hell you could afford that. Unless your parents pay for you, that is.

"Wow, that-"

"Her parents", Natasha cuts him off. She tugs at the neckline of her polo shirt. "They insisted. Lovely venue, really."

He nods and glances at his own wedding ring. All he remembers is a little church that smelled like mildew and a backyard full of roses and nettles. He'd managed to injure himself with both.

"How generous", he says, clearing his throat. "You'll have to show me the pictures sometimes. I love countryside England, my best friend spent his childhood there. Anyway, let's move on. You're sure there aren't any remaining questions?"

"Positive", you confirm. But Natasha recalls something about how showing interest is a positive thing, so she glances at you before leaning over the table.

"What are the neighbors like? You know, with a baby on the way, we just want to make sure it'll be a peaceful environment."

"Oh, they're amazing", he immediately says. "There's an elderly lady living right down the hall, she'll feed you turkey and stuffing for Thanksgiving. One of the families had a dog. Rabid old beast, died last year. They might get another eventually, but as of now, no dangerous animals in sight. The old tenants complained about someone blasting music late at night — thin walls, you know-"

"Thin walls?", you say, giving Natasha a look. "Good luck."

She stares at you. Mr. Norman pauses, blinking slowly, then shakes his head. He opens his mouth, but she's faster.

"I snore", she says. "Loudly. It's an...issue."

"Oh", he says. "That's unfortunate for your wife. But I doubt the neighbors will hear much of it. Do you plan on having pets?"

"No", you say, arms crossed tightly. You're doing your best to stop the strong case of scatterbrain that's hit you, but the pregnancy is causing you some trouble. "Not with a baby."

"Smart choice. You never know with animals, the cat that I had..." He waves his fingers dismissively. "Anyway. I like you two. I'm sick of people fawning over me just so they'll get the apartment. Honesty is the best policy, and if you get your wife's snoring under control, we're peachy."

The interview lasts ten more minutes, then you shake hands and leave. Natasha holds your hand all the way down the stairs and to the car, her palm sweaty and her cheeks still warm. Once you're out of earshot, you free yourself from her clammy fingers.

She gives you a confused look. "What?"

You dramatically wave your hand. "What the hell were you sweating for? He's so nice!"

Natasha blinks, her hand on the passenger door that she was about to open. She scoffs. "Yes, he is. But what was up with you? You're all pregnancy brain and- and no actual brain."

"Excuse me?" You give her a look of offense. "I didn't do anything! I even made up a nice wedding. By the way, I like that idea. It's, like, very Martha Stewart."

"It's expensive", she deadpans, opening the door for you. "Too expensive. Get in. And buckle up, for god's sake."

This time, you do buckle up.

. . .

Stacks of clothes, neat and freshly washed. A box filled with memorabilia — movie theater tickets, an old jersey, a bunch of Polaroids. Another box, slowly getting fuller as you're putting all your beauty products into it.

Natasha's on FaceTime, sitting in her own dorm and packing boxes. This was your idea, as you refused to let her waste time by helping you pack. In the end, she'll do the hardest part by picking it all up, anyway.

"How's it going?", you ask, glancing at the screen. She shows you a bra she found. "Fuck you. That's not mine."

"What?" Natasha fumbles with the thin piece of fabric and inspects it. "Yes, it is!"

"No", you insist, squinting. She shoots you a mildly panicked look. "That's not mine. Seriously. Did you cheat?"

It's been a while since Natasha slept with anyone else. A year, or maybe even longer. It was definitely before the spring break you spent in Florida. Still, she's slowly losing her mind as you keep insisting that this bra she found in her backpack isn't yours.

She curses, then reaches for her phone. Seconds later, you receive a picture of yourself from a few months ago — in class, leaning back, the bra showing. It's the same color and material.

"Oh", you state. "It is mine."

"Yes, it is", she mutters, propping the phone up against a stack of books again. "Almost done packing?"

You glance at your closet, which is half full and leaking. There's a dress on the floor, a sweater thrown over the closet door, and you can see a skirt that's barely hanging on to the hanger's clips. Not to mention your desk, which is still untouched.

"I mean, sure."

"Yeah?" She frowns, folding a letter jacket. "I'm picking you up in an hour, babe. Better be ready."

An hour seems impossible. You sigh at one of your suitcases, still empty, and start losing interest in what you're doing. There's no rush — you both know it. But your plan was to get out of your dorms as soon as possible. Living alone sounds better, yes, but the pregnancy is making you tired and unable to focus.

You put your lipsticks aside and very slowly lay down on the floor. Natasha's still folding clothes, but once she realizes you're out of frame, she raises her eyebrows.

"Still there?"

"Yes."

..."Still alive?"

You almost laugh. "Define alive."

She grimaces and puts down the hoodie she was holding. It's the height of summer, you're pregnant, things are more than a little stressful. She's had enough time to lose her mind — though, truthfully, she still hasn't made peace with this yet —, but you're carrying the literal reason your life is about to change so drastically. Of course you're exhausted.

"Put the clothes away", she says firmly. You peek at the screen. "Seriously. Go lay down."

"Okay, I appreciate the thought, but I'm not some fragile-"

"Lay down", she repeats. "I'll be there as soon as I'm done here. I'll bring the truck, too. You better be asleep when I arrive."

You're not one to take orders from Natasha. Usually, you boss her around. But you can tell she's serious, and you're tired and bored and uncomfortable in your own skin, so you roll your eyes — to her, that means defeat.

You sweep everything off your bed, then you lay down. You don't hang up on Natasha, though. Instead, you put your phone down next to you.

By the time she arrives, you're still passed out. The sun has started to set by now, and though the room is still messy, it's now messy during golden hour.

Natasha takes one look at the boxes and suitcases and almost cries. She spent the entire day packing — and now, she gets to pack some more. You look peaceful enough to make her believe it's worth it.

You wake up at the perfect time. All the boxes are packed, and the room is empty aside from the suitcases. The door opens, and Natasha, sweaty biceps bulging, walks in to grab the last bit of luggage.

You spot her first. Unfortunately, the way she bends over to pick up both suitcases at once is enough to make your hormones run wild again.

"Looking good", you mumble, sleepy still. She looks startled for a split second. "Leaving already?"

"We gotta get to the apartment", she replies, recognizing the look in your eyes. She ogles you for a moment before deciding against dropping everything to join you. "The truck's downstairs. I'll get it loaded up."

"Fine", you sigh, rolling over and deliberately letting your shirt hike up. Natasha swallows. "If you insist."

"Come downstairs when you're ready", she mumbles. Focus is key, especially when you're sprawled out on a bed like that. The bed she's had you pinned to countless times — she'll miss it. "They delivered the bed. I still need to get it assembled by tonight."

"So we can christen it?"

Her cheeks flush. She shoots you a glare before leaving the dorm room and letting the door slam shut. Not a no, you think and get up.

The drive to your apartment is uneventful. Once you arrive, Natasha shoos you upstairs — you're about to enter week 18 of pregnancy, and she's not having you carry anything besides your backpack.

"I can't even watch?", you complain, ogling her not-so-subtly as she starts hauling boxes out of the truck. "Not fair. Let me record at least."

"Record?" She stares at you, holding one box. Arms flexing, skin gleaming in the streetlight, cap on backwards. You've teased her for that same look before, but you're too desperate to care now. "You're kidding."

"I'm not", you say, eyebrows raised. "Try me."

Natasha huffs, then shakes her head as she adjusts the box in her arms. She nods at the front door.

"I'll let you record something else. Open the door for me, please?"

"You better mean that", you say, doing as told.

Half an hour later, the truck bed is empty and the apartment is full. Boxes everywhere, three suitcases, a duffel bag, a bunch of furniture that still needs to be assembled.

The only room that's basically fully furnished is the nursery — a crib, changing table and closet arrived a few days ago. Natasha put everything together immediately, which is pointless considering the fact that the baby is the size of a pomegranate. She was proud of it, though, and you didn't even want to say anything. Seeing her care about it is still unusual to you, so you soak it up.

At least the couch doesn't need assembling. You plop down on it and watch Natasha put on your favorite show — she's ripping open the box with the bed to assemble it.

"Nice", you say, stretching out. "Preparations for tonight?"

"Sure", she says, looking at the instructions. She gets up and starts moving everything to the bedroom. "You can order dinner if you want."

"Not yet", you say, watching her leave. After a few seconds of consideration, you grab the blanket and get up to follow her. She's kneeling on the floor already, pulling out pieces of wood and glancing at the instructions every now and then. "Need a hand?"

"If you know how", Natasha mumbles. She brushes a strand of hair out of her face and nods at the plastic baggies filled with bolts and nuts. "Think you can handle those?"

You nod and sit down cross legged. She asks for you to hand her a specific piece, and you do it.

It's silent for a long while. You become more restless and less focused. Pregnancy did that to you — somehow, your focus will waver after mere minutes. You can barely concentrate on anything anymore, and it's a shame. As Natasha's still assembling the headboard and footboard of the bed, you're flipping pages of the instructions and getting started on other stuff.

"Hand me the long one?", Natasha asks, trying to ignore you doing random stuff next to her.

"I know something else that's long."

She shoots you a look and accepts the bolt wordlessly.

Minutes later, she's done with the first part. You, on the other hand, are sticking random pieces of wood together. Natasha doesn't know much, but she knows it doesn't look right.

"Babe", she says slowly. "Can I take a look at that?"

You glance at her, then at whatever you're trying to assemble. "Why?"

"Just need to fix something", she says. "Did you even look at the instructions?"

"I saw the picture on the front. Should be enough to wing it, you know."

Natasha inspects your project and sighs. This isn't just any piece of furniture — it's your bed. The thing you sleep in, have sex in. One time, you broke her dorm bed. The slats literally collapsed, and she'd ended up knocking her forehead against the headboard.

Needless to say she'll have to fix this. Otherwise, she can already smell the future injuries.

Thankfully, you lean back and keep your hands off the pieces lying on the floor. Your commentary doesn't stop. After over half an hour of jokes about screws and holes and her hands, the bed is assembled and Natasha is ready to give in. She's been hard for a while, after all, and you said it yourself — you should christen the apartment.

. . .

A few days later, once everything is assembled, you start unpacking.

Natasha's in a hurry when that happens. She quickly throws together that last piece of furniture — a nightstand — before going to grab her jersey. She digs through boxes, suitcases, duffel bags, but it seems to have vanished, and she's slowly losing her mind.

"Babe?", she calls from the bedroom. "Mind making my shake?"

"Which flavor?"

"Any works!"

You reach for two things — the shaker and the plastic container filled with a whitish powder. Vanilla, you assume. You pour almond milk, add two scoops of the powder, shake it well. Natasha joins you in the kitchen, finally wearing her jersey and shorts.

You hand her the shaker and she leans in to kiss your cheek. "Thanks", she says, grabbing a banana as well. "You'll be alright?"

"It's just boxes", you dismiss. Natasha hums and shoulders her backpack. "I'll get groceries, too."

"Don't overwork yourself."

"Same goes for you", you reply, straightening the front of her jersey. Getting on your tiptoes, you peck her mouth. "Have fun at practice. I'll be there at the game on Saturday."

"It's just a match between friends", she says dismissively. "Not even the entire team's here. It's just six of us, guess we're all too broke for summer vacation."

"Next year", you promise. "Italy, right?"

"Italy", she confirms, bringing the mouth of her bottle to her lips. She takes a sip, nearly gags, then turns around and spits it out into the sink. "What the fuck, Y/N?"

You raise your eyebrows, hands lifted. "What? I thought you liked vanilla!"

Natasha tilts her head enough to let water flow right into her mouth. Once she's washed the flavor off her tongue, she wipes her face with the bottom of her jersey and cough quietly. She has no idea how you managed that, but whatever you put into her shake wasn't protein powder.

"What did you put?", she asks, turning around. Her eyes are teary.

"This", you say, grabbing the plastic container. She groans. "What?"

"Love, that's flour."

You stare at the container, then dip your finger in and try it. It is flour. What you made is closer to pancake batter than it is to a protein shake.

"Shit, sorry", you say, quickly taking the bottle from her. "I'll make a new one."

"No need", she says, reaching into the small pantry. She pulls out a protein shake — chocolate this time — and shakes it. "I gotta run. Make sure you don't set anything on fire."

"I'm not stupid", you complain. You curse silently when you remember how you almost put a fork into the microwave just hours earlier. "My brain is just...I don't know."

"I know." She kisses you, then leaves the kitchen. Seconds later, the front door falls shut, and you're left alone with two dozen boxes and no willpower at all. You have no choice, though, so you make your way into the living room and get started.

Three hours later, Natasha comes back home. She's sweaty, muscles aching in just the right way, a youthful shimmer covering her cheeks. You've managed to get a lot done, which you're proud of. Grocery shopping, over half the boxes unpacked, everything sorted into the right places.

"Wow", Natasha says, setting her duffle bag down. She leans over the couch to peck your lips. "It looks great in here. I'm proud."

"Yeah?" You smile, grabbing the front of her jersey. It's damp, but you're used to it. Matter of fact, you tend to jump her bones whenever she just had practice or a game. Pheromones, probably, or some other icky biological thing. "How proud?"

"Very proud", she states, kissing you again. Her palm runs along the slight curve of your belly. "Let me shower, then I'll join you. Sound good?"

"Perfect", you say, pecking the tip of her nose. "You smell."

"Love you too." She rolls her eyes and pulls away, but you grab her jersey tighter. She raises her eyebrows.

"I wasn't being mean", you clarify. "Now go, I'll make you something to eat."

Natasha hums and brings your hand to her mouth to kiss your knuckles, then she turns around. The bathroom door stays ajar, and moments later, you hear water running. You force yourself off the couch and walk into the kitchen, where you grab toast, butter and some of the leftover rotisserie chicken in the fridge.

In the shower, Natasha's just finished lathering in her shampoo. She wipes the suds off her face before reaching for the soap. It's a new one — longer, slimmer than the one you usually buy. Not thinking much of it, she starts soaping herself up.

For some reason, it's...greasy. Fatty. Instead of making her feel clean, she's starting to have the suspicion that she's about to be thrown into a pan and grilled, because the slippery film left on her skin is as oily as can be. Maybe a new brand. Maybe a different kind of oil, like avocado oil.

But then, the smell. It's not subtle, the shampoo was just overpowering it. It hits her now, though, and she feels like a piece of popcorn at the movie theater, drenched in butter and ready to be eaten.

"Jesus!", she curses, grabbing the bar of whatever it is again. She sniffs it. "Y/N?"

You're in the kitchen, humming to yourself and not listening. The toast is fresh out the toaster, so you use a knife to scrape off some butter and spread it on it. It doesn't melt as easily as usual, but somehow, that detail flies right over your head. You plate everything nicely, squirt some barbecue sauce over the chicken and add a can of root beer on the side.

Natasha emerges minutes later. She still smells like butter. Even your vanilla-rose-something body wash didn't get rid of the stench.

"Why's there butter in the shower?", she demands, tossing the half-molten piece of butter into the trash. "God, I smell like popcorn."

"What?" You frown at her. She sits down and grabs the root beer, gulping it down. "That wasn't butter. It was a new soap I got. Lemon scented, with almond oil. Really nice."

She gives you a doubtful look and reaches for the toast. "Lemon scented? Babe, I know your senses are screwed, but you can smell it. It's butter."

"It isn't", you insist, watching her. Oblivious, she takes a bite. Her face twists. "What?"

She shakes her head, almost spitting the toast out. The thing in the shower was butter — no question. But what she's eating now, spread on warm toast and refusing to melt, definitely isn't. Instead, she smells lemon and tastes a whole lot of something she shouldn't be eating.

"Soap?", she coughs, spitting the toast into a napkin. "Here's your soap. Babe, I ate soap."

You stare at her, baffled. Mentally, you go back to what you did after returning from the grocery store — which was put the groceries away. Apples in the fruit bowl, sugar in the pantry, soap in the fridge, butter in the shower, peas in the freezer.

You snort and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. Natasha's draining the root beer in a few, large gulps. "No way."

"You're laughing?", she says, eyes teary. The taste is finally gone from her tongue, but for some reason, the soap tasted better than she'd admit. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm sorry", you say, giggling and feeling the tears rush into your eyes. You're laughing and crying — the duality of pregnancy. "I don't know what's wrong with me!"

"Pregnancy brain", she says, looking up. The moment she spots your tears, though, she feels bad. "Hey, don't cry. I know you didn't mean to do this. You accidentally mistook butter...for soap. It happens."

"Yeah", you sniff. She sighs and gets up to wrap you into her arms. "You're lucky it was soap. Could've been, I don't know, bleach in your coffee."

"We'll cross that bridge when it happens", Natasha says firmly. She kisses your cheek and rubs your back. "It was soap, okay? My mouth smells great now, so thank you for that. And I'm more moisturized than I've been in years."

"No", you mutter. "You're oily. Big difference."

She smiles against your cheek, still holding you close. She does smell like butter, but her skin isn't greasy — it's nice and soft, somehow.

"It's fine. Seriously. Blame the hormones, blame the baby, but don't blame yourself. No damage done, I promise."

You grumble under your breath, but she just hugs you tighter. Lips trail all over your face, kisses everywhere, and soon enough, the tears stop.

The butter smell, however, lingers for two full days. You crave popcorn constantly.

. . .

Hand between your legs, mouth around your nipple. She sucks lightly and feels your underwear get damper with each rub of her thumb.

It's 10am on a Sunday. Outside, it's raining. A mild late summer rain, just enough to mellow the heat and rehydrate the small patch of grass behind your apartment building.

You were the one to get this started. You woke up with your face against her back and your fingertips just beneath the waistband of her boxers. She'd been making soft noises in her sleep, her skin had been warm, and her boner had been growing steadily.

Eventually, she woke up. You hadn't touched her yet at that point — but Natasha, half asleep and already leaking, grabbed your hand and pushed it fully into her boxers. Your nails had grazed her skin just enough to make it throb and ache. Once it twitched, sensitive head brushing the fabric of her boxers, it'd been over.

Fast forward to five minutes later. You're in her lap, both of you naked and flushed. Hand around her shaft, you're jerking her off in quick, desperate strokes. Natasha grunts and buries her face in your chest. Her fingers barely manage to slip between your thighs.

You sigh into her hair. Your hand tightens around her, feeling precum dribble over your fingers. She whines and tries to rut up into your hand.

Unrelated to what you're doing, your stomach grumbles. The craving is as sudden as Natasha thrusting her fingers into you. A split second ago, you were chasing an orgasm. Now, your mind has only one track — and it leads straight into the kitchen.

"Mhh", you mumble, letting go. Natasha blinks, ready to protest. "I'm hungry."

"Wait", she says, staring as you scramble off her lap stark naked. "No way. Y/N!"

Too late. You're on your way to the kitchen already, where your eyes zero in on the cereal box on the counter. Chips Ahoy. Of course you'll pour yourself a bowl.

Natasha appears in the doorway moments later, still rock hard and now tugging up her boxers. Her hair is a mess, there's precum smeared across her abs, and she feels like she's about to burst.

You, on the other hand, couldn't be more content. The bowl's filled to the brim with cookie cereal and milk, you've shoveled the first spoonful into your mouth, and when the sugar hits your tongue, you almost moan. It's hard for Natasha not to be jealous of the bowl of cereal in that moment.

"Cereal?", she says, standing there in defeat. She looks like a tragic painting, with her glistening stomach and her disheveled hair. "Okay. Wow. That's a new low."

"It's so good", you mumble. "Baby loves it, too. Want a bite?"

"You replaced me with cereal", she just says. "No, I'm not taking a bite."

"I didn't replace you, dummy." You lick the milk off your lips and give her a somewhat apologetic look. "I'm hungry."

"I'm about to cry", she retorts. She drops down into a chair, arms crossed and boxers straining. You standing there naked doesn't help, either. "I can go finish this myself, y'know."

You raise your eyebrows at her. She won't finish it herself, and you're reminding her of that fact. As long as you're around, she's either doing it with you or not at all. Caught red handed, she slumps into the chair and sulks silently.

"Thought so", you grin. Natasha still knows her place. "Come on, I'll pour you a bowl. More stamina."

"Stamina from what? Sugar and white flour?" Natasha lifts her head and gives you a pointed look. "We agreed on no junk food until the baby's here."

"I never agreed. Besides, it's not fair. You still get to eat whatever you want."

"I don't", she replies. You bring the bowl to your lips and slurp up the leftover milk. Head tipped back, breasts perky, faint stretch marks forming around your belly already. She throbs uncontrollably. "You done?"

Smiling and satisfied, you put the bowl aside. Natasha shifts in her seat as you walk toward her. She's barely stopping herself from jumping up and grabbing you. She doesn't need to do that, fortunately — you tug her up and drag her back into the bedroom without her having to move a finger.

Her back hits the mattress, her hands grope your thighs. You straddle her stomach and put your hands on her chest, feeling her boner press against your butt. It's been about ten minutes since you abandoned her for cereal, but she's just as pent up as she was before that.

"Hope you're happy", she mutters, pushing one hand into her boxers to give herself a few testing tugs. Still rock hard. She doesn't seem to have stopped sulking, either. "That was mean."

"Oh, come on", you coo, cupping her face. You lift your hips enough to let them hover over her. You sink down enough to let the head push in. "I'll make it up to you, baby."

Her reply dies in her throat. Hands greedily grabbing at your thighs, she tugs you down right as her own hips jerk up, thrusting into you hard enough to punch the air out of you. Your fingers claw at her face, and she keeps up the almost aggressive rhythm for a dizzying amount of time before slowing down a bit.

"Don't do that again", she pants, sweat beading at her temples and making her baby hairs stick together. You let out a loud moan as she keeps slamming you down on her. The bed creaks quietly, and she prays she didn't make a mistake while assembling it. "I'll tie you to the bed, I swear."

"Mhm", you say. Your hands run down her neck and chest, nails dragging across creamy skin and leaving red lines behind. "Other way around, honey."

Natasha almost cries at the mere thought.

. . .

You thought pregnancy brain was bad enough when it just kicked in, but you had no idea it was still to reach its peak.

You're 27 weeks pregnant now. At this point, it's been lasting months, fluctuating in its severity and allowing you little breathers every now and then. However, classes have started again. You're back to your life as a college student. You're not going to take the semester off, not now and probably not even when the baby arrives. Being a pregnant college student comes with its challenges, though.

It's the small things, like not packing a book — or packing the wrong book. It's Natasha having to sprint from her class to yours just to swap laptops. It's blurting out the wrong word when being called on in class, or your thoughts drifting away so much you forget what class you're even in.

One Friday morning, you can tell it'll be a bad day. You spend half an hour searching for your favorite lipgloss (and ignoring Natasha's desperate attempts to convince you to use a different one). You dig through drawers and flip them to empty them out, climb into the closet, cry into the freezer when you're about to give up and make yourself breakfast — only to find it tucked between some waffles and a bag of peas.

"I don't think you can use that", Natasha says, ogling the lipgloss. "It's probably hard."

"It's fine", you insist, trying to tug the applicator out of the tube. It's hopeless, though. "Don't be useless and help me!"

She quickly jumps up from her spot at the table and skitters across the floor to get to your side. "Love, I don't think-"

"Nat", you say sharply. You shove the lipgloss into her hand. "I'll cry."

You will cry. Natasha knows from experience. She's never seen anyone shed as many tears as you have during the past few months, and she praises every day that manages to keep your cheeks dry. Sighing, she grabs the lipgloss and starts to roll it between her palms.

Part of her is tempted to ask why you didn't get an extra one if you like it so much. But she sees you in front of the toaster, tears drying on your cheeks as you wait for the waffles to pop out, and decides it isn't worth it.

An hour later, you're on your way to class. Natasha actually managed to thaw the lipgloss enough to make it possible for you to apply it. You're happy now, holding her hand tight and rambling about random things while sipping a decaf vanilla latte.

It's the middle of fall now. The weather's colder, the days are shorter. No snow yet, thankfully, but Natasha's dreading the first time you'll walk on snowy ground while heavily pregnant.

Classes don't take too long. Natasha has practice right after her last one, so she kisses you goodbye before making Clint drop you off in front of your apartment complex. Seconds later, he's gone, and you pad to the front door while simultaneously digging through your purse for your keys.

Tissues, the lipgloss from earlier, chewing gum. A little notebook Natasha got you so you could write things down and remember them — its pages blank, obviously. But no sign of your keys. Frustrated, you rip your purse open wider and search it more thoroughly. Nothing, aside from an old pen and a few old condom wrappers at the bottom. You must've forgotten your keys in the apartment.

"Shit", you mutter, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. You hesitate before grabbing your phone to call Natasha.

You're not sure why you keep your hopes high — she's in the middle of practice. She's the team captain. You know she almost never manages to pick up her phone when she's playing basketball. She used to do that, but coach made her put both her phone and her smartwatch into a little container and put it aside. No distractions, he said.

Not a big deal. You know Natasha already made it clear that, eventually, she'll have no choice but to keep both her phone and watch on her at all times, especially when you're nearing your due date. But as of right now, he's adamant about making sure she's playing at her best. Neither of you took your forgetfulness, or the cold outside, into consideration though. And now, you're standing in front of the front door of a building that's basically empty. It's not even noon — all of your neighbors are either at work or at school.

You try to ring the doorbell at your elderly neighbor's place. No response, either. She's probably visiting friends at the nursing home, just like she told you about last week. Without thinking, you drag your palm down the panel of doorbells and wait with your breath held.

Again, nothing. You exhale in frustration, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, and dial her number again, and again, repeating that until your cheeks are wet and her voice appears on the other end of the line.

"Y/N?", she says, sounding panicked. You can hear a basketball thud in the background. "Everything okay?"

"I locked myself out", you sob, wiping at your eyes. "It's cold."

Silence. Natasha's coach says something, and she dismisses him. Just the image of you, pregnant and crying in the cold, makes her quit practice for the day. She's hurrying to her car already.

"Give me five minutes", she pleads, the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder as she buckles up. "I'll kill Clint, I swear. That bastard was supposed to pick up your call, I don't know why he didn't. I bet he-"

"Clint?"

"Yeah", she says. "Clint. I told you to call him in case I don't pick up. He's on emergency duty."

Your brain stutters as you try to remember. Sure enough, Natasha told you to dial Clint's number if you need anything — that'd include being locked out, too. He'd have picked you up and let you wait at his place. But you forgot, of course.

"You forgot", she says before you can even confess. You let out another sob. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm just glad Carol heard you blow up my phone, otherwise you'd turn into an icicle out there."

"Be quick", you mutter, still wiping tears away.

Sure enough, the familiar car pulls up not even five minutes later. She jumps out, only in her sweaty jersey and shorts, with the keys and her jacket in hand, and runs up to you. You're wrapped into the jacket before she manages to kiss your nose.

"There we go", she says, rubbing your arm. She unlocks the front door. "Come on, I'll make hot chocolate."

Upstairs, you peel off both her jacket and then your own. You put it on the hook but it slips, falls to the floor — and something jingles. Both of you pause. Natasha ogles your jacket.

"What was that?"

"I don't know", you murmur, awkwardly bending over to pick up the jacket. You reach into the pocket, and when you feel something cold and metallic, you pause again. Behind you, Natasha clears her throat. "The keys. They were in here."

A sudden laugh comes from behind you. You turn and frown as you watch her laugh, hands covering her face and shoulders shaking. It's not even that funny, but looking at the situation as a whole, Natasha's losing her mind.

"It's not funny!", you say, sulking. "I forgot, okay?"

"You made me drive all the way over here", she wheezes, feeling herself tear up as well. You give her a concerned look. "Christ, we're both losing it. The baby isn't even here yet. We're done for, and so's the kid."

"Nat?", you say slowly, frowning. "You okay?"

She nods, trying to stop laughing and crying. "Fuck. That poor child."

You stare at her, perplexed, before taking a few hesitant steps closer. She doesn't back off — instead, she ends up in your arms with her face against your shoulder. You pat her back, silently wondering how this went from you crying to her being the one who needs comfort.

"The baby will be fine", you say, and she shakes against you as she laughs again. "Stop that!"

"You can't be serious! We're fucking up the simplest stuff up, how are we going to be responsible for a whole human?"

You roll your eyes, but you get her point. You're not made for parenthood. You're two dumb college students who got pregnant — all because you thought it'd be easier to make her commit by babytrapping her —, and now, you have no idea what you're doing. The due date is way too close as well. It's November, and February isn't that far away anymore.

"Well, there's no way out", you finally say. "We have no choice, you know. We have to do this. One way or another."

"Better pray your pregnancy brain fucks off by then", she mutters. You slap her shoulder. "Ow- okay, sorry."

"We'll be alright", you repeat. She sighs and presses her mouth against your neck. Her fingers toy with the waistband of your panties — mostly because it's comforting, but also because she thinks sex reduces stress. You see right through her. "Don't. I still want that hot chocolate."

"Hm", she replies, pulling away. She pecks your lips. "On it. Wait in bed for me?"

"You know it", you say, smiling. You give her sides a quick squeeze. "We'll be alright. Promise. Just don't freak out. Or I'll freak out as well."

Natasha raises her eyebrows wordlessly. That says more than enough, so you shove her away. She laughs, tugs you back in, then lets go and disappears into the kitchen.

You're right. Things don't end up nearly as bad as she'd feared.

[norwayromanoff]

Such a Skeptic pt. 2

NR x witch!r

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: Once Natasha experiences your pussy for the first time, she becomes determined to do two things: 1) fuck you on every surface in every room in every position possible and 2) actually make you come.

Based on this request

18+

Part 1 should probably be read first tbh

Natasha’s length plunges into you repeatedly, reaching deep inside, your moans and whines matching each thrust, your eyes rolling back at the pleasure that overtakes you. She’s still clumsy, trying to find and keep a tempo as her senses are overloaded by your warmth surrounding her, but the feeling of her invades your body nonetheless.

It’s her first time fucking you—really fucking you—­­with you having enchanted her strap again, and dear lord, if she thought your mouth was heaven-sent, your pussy really is something else… the way your walls hug her length, clench around her, and suck her back in as if eager for all she can give… heaven-sent.

Her hips rut into yours at a jackhammer pace, her thrusts uncoordinated yet rough, her body simply demanding more, more, more. Even with the lack of rhythm, your own body thrums, aches for her to continue, pulses with desperate need. She watches your breasts bounce with every stroke, watches your face contort due to the blissful feeling that is her finally inside of you, and when she looks down to where the two of you are connected and sees her length disappear into you again and again, your pussy parting prettily as if made just for the shape of her, she comes.

It’s only been a couple of minutes of her fucking you, and you moan as you feel her filling your pussy, but your moan soon transitions into a soft laugh that you can’t suppress, bubbling up after she finishes, filling the room around you, the only other sound being your girlfriend’s fatigued panting.

Natasha snorts at your amusement but is unable to blame you for finding her lack of stamina rather funny.

“Did you come?” she asks once she regains her breath.

You can see the hopeful look in her eyes, hear the optimism in her tone, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find her actually crossing her fingers right now, so you wince internally at the disappointment you know she’s about to feel when you give her your honest answer.

“Nope,” you tell her, and she deflates.

But Natasha’s initial insecurities regarding not being able to please you quickly makes way to aggressive determination. She’s going to make you come so hard that you forget your own name but somehow remember hers.

Not even 24 hours later, you find yourself bent over with your breasts flattened against the kitchen table, the juxtaposition of the cold surface chilling your already pebbled nipples and the soft warmth of Natasha’s chest pressed against your back clashing as she splits you open.

This time, her thrusts are long and unhurried, attempting to hit that one spot she’s so well-acquainted with with every stroke, attempting to prolong both your pleasure and hers. Perhaps the unforgiving pace she set yesterday was too much, maybe slowing things down, allowing the intensity to gently grow within the two of you, will finally get you to climax… she just hopes that she’ll actually be able to last long enough to get you there.

One hand is gripping your wrists, holding them together behind you against your lower back, the other on the nape of your neck, keeping you down, and in this position, with her fucking into you leisurely, you’re gradually getting there, but…

Once again, it doesn’t take long for her release to spill out of her, erupting inside you.

Through huffs and puffs, she asks you the same sort of question as last time.

“How was that?”

“It was… good.”

She sighs.

“No, really, it was good. You’re getting better.”

“You didn’t come, did you?”

You give her an apologetic look.

It’s only been two more days when Natasha strides into the bathroom, wearing nothing besides a strap on secured tightly to her hips. You’re naked yourself, the shower on, the water warming as steam fills the small room.

In moments, you're both in the shower, her strap again enchanted, and she’s situating you with your palms flat against the tile, with your ass pushed back towards her and your thighs spread apart. She moves her length to your entrance, giving it a few strokes with her hand for good measure, before she begins to stuff your needy hole.

She’s got some new ideas, her hands finding your hips, fingers digging into the softness there as she begins to move you in time with her thrusts, pulling you into her, further onto her length. Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a small whimper, but that is nowhere near enough for Natasha.

One hand leaves your hip to grab at the plush flesh of your ass before smacking your cheek roughly, a handprint reddening your skin, before her other hand joins and she spreads both cheeks, allowing her better access to drive into you.

She manages to reach new depths like this, your cries echoing throughout the shower, your head falling forward until it’s leaned against the tile. You attempt to push back into her, to meet her in the middle, but it’s difficult with how your knees are going weak and feeling like they’re about to give out.

Unfortunately but unsurprisingly, Natasha’s already close again, trying to hold on, her face contorted in pleasure behind you as she teeters on the edge. Her own eyes are closed as she lets out small, shaky breaths against your shoulder, rocking into you, grinding into you, and while the redhead does her absolute best to keep her orgasm at bay, ultimately, the pleasure wins out, your pussy’s velvet grip too much for her, and she’s coming again.

“This time?” she asks, although she knows the answer.

You remain silent.

“Were you at least close?”

“…Not exactly.”

Natasha groans, water cascading around her, head dropping down to press against your back in defeat, the entire world feeling as though it’s mocking her inability to bring you to climax. She’s never struggled like this before. God, she’s going to make you come if it kills her.

It continues like this, a pattern forming, Natasha’s perseverance impressive.

You keep repeating that she needs to give it time, keep reassuring her that she’s simply adjusting to everything, and honestly, you don’t mind that she’s the only one who's come so far. Seeing Natasha’s face screwed up, her brows furrowed, her mouth parted, hearing her moan and groan, begging to come inside, it’s satisfying enough. And it’s not as though she hasn’t been pleasing you in other ways, with other parts of her body. Her fingers and mouth are certainly still practiced.

It’s only been a few weeks of trying, and there’s blatant progress. She’s no longer coming uncontrollably after a few seconds like a virgin boy, so you know it’s only a matter of time until you’re crying out in ecstasy with her too.

And to be honest, you’re finding Natasha’s seemingly uphill battle slightly amusing—the woman has never once had any trouble getting you to scream her name so loud your throat goes raw within seconds. Natasha, on the other hand, is beyond frustrated. Her pride has taken quite the hit, but she’s resolute in her mission to bring you to a height you’ve never reached.

Natasha receives a text one morning from Tony Stark.

‘Impromptu party tonight. Dress fancy. Attendance is mandatory.’

“Fucking hell,” she mutters.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Another Stark party.”

“Didn’t he just throw one, like, last week?”

“Yep.”

“Any way to get out of it?”

“Nope.”

The party is in full swing by the time you two arrive, music playing in the background, crowds of people gathered throughout the room, chatter filling the air, and it’s clear that Stark has gone all out, always one to take his parties seriously.

Natasha is dressed to the nines in a formfitting grey dress, the curve of her neck and protrusion of her collarbone on full display. When you first saw her walk out of your bedroom, bending and giving you a phenomenal view of her ass as she finished putting on her heels, you wanted to eat her alive. Her hair is wavier than usual, pinned back on one side, and she’s got some light makeup on. She looks beautiful, she looks gorgeous, she looks, well, hot. Not that she ever doesn’t.

And that’s only the beginning.

She is teasing all night. Lingering touches, breath hot against your ear as she pulls you close and speaks in a hushed whisper meant just for you, lips dragging against your exposed neck and shoulder before ending with soft kisses, hand slipping lower than it should at times when she knows no one is looking. You don’t know what has gotten into her tonight, but then you feel it as she pulls your back against her chest, her hands coming to rest around your waist. You two are mid-conversation with some other Avengers when her hips press up into you slightly more than necessary. And, oh, she’s packing.

That’s it for you, and you’re quickly pulling yourself out of her grip, mumbling some lame excuse about having to use the bathroom, and rushing to the luckily empty room, finally able to take a steadying breath when the door closes behind you and you find yourself alone. Your hands grip the edges of the sink, your head bowed, your eyes closed as you try to regulate your breathing, the sudden throbbing in your core impossible to ignore.

Natasha smirks at your retreating form, at your hasty escape, deciding to give you some time to try and collect yourself before following. When the bathroom door reopens and closes softly and you glance up at whoever has entered through the mirror, you find Natasha’s reflection looking back at you.

“Natasha?” you question, unable to keep the slight whininess out of your voice, giving away how she’s made you feel with her little revelation.

She doesn’t reply verbally but locks the door behind her, the action enough of an answer in itself.

She approaches you slowly, steps measured, taking her time, and the tension in the room increases with every stride, and your mind whirls at her growing proximity, and your heart rate skyrockets when she finally moves into your space. She once again firmly leans her chest against your back, once again allows you to feel the bulge she’s been hiding underneath her dress all night, and the aching between your legs becomes borderline unbearable.

“Enchant me,” she murmurs against your neck, mouthing at the skin there, feeling your pulse beat beneath her lips.

“Natasha” you repeat her name, protesting, “Here? We’re- we’re literally in Iron Man’s bathroom, and-”

“Detka, do it.” Her tone is final, and you know you’re not going to be able to convince her out of this. Whatever Natasha is planning, you’re completely defenseless against it. She knows you want nothing more than for her to take you, right here, right now—decency be damned—only shielded from the other partygoers by an undoubtedly not soundproofed door and a flimsy lock.

You turn around, and your hand shakily waves something, the motion weak and unsteady as your whole body trembles with need, as you struggle to focus enough to even cast the spell, and as soon as Natasha begins to feel the strap, she’s lifting her dress, pulling down her panties, and beginning to palm at her rapidly hardening length.

You chance a glance down, watching her hand move along her shaft, watching beads a precum dribble from her tip, and you let out a desperate whimper as your body responds in kind, slick already soaking through your panties.

Natasha lets go of her length, and it seems to twitch in disappointment at the reduced stimulation, but there are too many layers between the two of you and she needs to remedy that. She’s hastily hiking up your own dress and shoving down your own panties to your ankles before lining herself up with your dripping slit and pushing in.

The two of you moan out together at the initial feeling, her thickness stretching your walls and your heat fluttering and constricting tightly around her.

She remains motionless for a few seconds, allowing the both of you to simply revel in each other, before she begins moving, pulling out until only her tip remains and subsequently sinking back in. Over and over, she buries herself within you, and when you’ve finally adjusted to the feeling, she’s suddenly pulling the rug out from under you again, grabbing the backs of your thighs and hoisting you up until your ass is perched on the edge of the sink, her length never leaving you despite the change in position.

Your nails scratch down her back as you cry out in pleasure at the new angle, her hips slamming into yours in a way that makes you gasp with every stroke.

You’re simply a moaning, whining mess, and Natasha is doing nothing to muffle your sounds. There’s no admonishing remark, no reminder to keep it down, no covering of your mouth to stifle you. She takes your series of noises and inability to string together any words as good sign, as an improvement, and keeps fucking you, reinvigorated, wanting everyone at the party hear her current situation.

You’ve been reduced to simply the need to come, your breathing labored as Natasha continues to unravel you bit by bit. She feels too good, overwhelming in the sensations she’s causing, almost too much, making you feel off balance and preventing you from centering yourself, preventing you from thinking about anything else. There’s no room for any distractions, your mind stuck on her and what she’s doing, Natasha taking up all of your senses.

Her mouth moves to nibble against your skin, sucking just one pretty bruise into the curve of your neck that’s going to be visible to everyone once you two exit the bathroom, an obvious message to all who’s looking. You’re hers, in every sense of the word. Hers to love, hers to take care of, hers to make feel good, hers to fuck. And she wants the entire world to know it, you included. She pulls back to admire her handiwork, the dark red blossoming in the most lovely of ways, and then she’s crashing her lips to yours in a searing kiss, interrupting your previously continuous stream of moans as she works you, in and out, with nonstop insistent thrusts that make your vision swim. She’s going to make you come here and now.

And this time, she’s right.

Your pussy gushes all over her painfully hard length, and it’s more than she can handle too, how your body seems to open up just for her causing everything else to simply fade away. You find yourself falling off the edge into overwhelming ecstasy, your head going hazy, all you know in this moment her. At the same time, Natasha practically explodes with pleasure, her nerves alight and singing, her body giving into what’s been steadily building. Everything about your climaxes is messy, the combination of your juices trickling down your thighs, the two of you loud and shameless in Tony Stark’s bathroom, but neither of you can bring yourself to care.

That was definitely worth your wait.

She’s exhausted, her eyes still closed, her chest heaving as she gently slides out of you, but Natasha has to ask.

“Please tell me I was successful.”

You simply laugh, placing a tired kiss on her cheek, your hole still leaking with your joint releases, your body still tingling. You look utterly debauched in the best way possible: hair that was once done up now a tangled mess, a new hickey discoloring your skin, your dress rumpled and panties obviously damp with your arousal, thighs sticky with both your cum and hers.

Natasha knows she was successful, so you can’t help your teasing. “Took you long enough.”

[hergirls24-deactivated20251112]

Pretty girl

This is about WLW SMUT, so I ask all MEN&MINORS DNI.

summary : Natasha being horny

Warnings : smut, strap on, oral, fingering, bdsm dynamics (BECAUSE WHY NOT), mommy issues, man handling, top Natasha, hot Dom Natasha, Natasha calling herself mommy, many nicknames, overstimulation, tell me if I miss anything 💚

It's 5am 😬 oopsie?? I'm sitting in my bed, writing smut and eating kiwis with a plastic fork. What more could I ask for.. Except from a subby older women 😔😔

Smut?? OOPSIE.

MASTERLIST

Her tongue was soft, dragging down your body towards where you wanted her the most. Where you needed her, where you begged her to be. She was teasing you at this point.

Her head dipped between your thighs, her tongue lightly dragging over your wet and warm cunt. God, if looks could kill - Natasha would be dead. Her hands stopped all your movement, you couldn't even roll your hips due to her strong hands holding your body down.

She was going to tease you about how wet you were but she didn't want to ruin the moment, didn't want to pull away from the way you tasted just to annoy you. She moaned happily against your cunt which sent shivers through your entire body, it added to the pleasure of her mouth sucking your clit.

She took a second to compose herself, after you grabbed the back of her head and pulled her further into you. Her nose, lips and chin, was now covered in your juices but she didn't care. Infact she wanted that more than you expected, her hands letting go of your body to rest on your thighs.

She was having to much fun, saying filthy things like;

"Good girl, use my mouth to get yourself off."

"Your so pretty for mommy baby."

"fuck—, keep begging pretty girl."

"you taste so good princess, I could do this for hours."

She would let you cum on her tongue before flipping you over, not telling you, but moving you herself into the position she wanted you in. She pushed your face into the mattress as your ass was in the air, "Want mommy's dick, hmm?" Her voice full of mockery as she secured the red strap around her waist.

She entered you without another word, quickly bottoming out inside you. She didn't give you time to get used to her length, she just started to assault your needy cunt. Your moans were mixed with pain and pleasure, your hands gripping your pillow and sheet to keep you grounded.

She felt how tight you were, your walls wrapping around her so nicely. Even though she fucks you with her strap almost everyday, you were still so tight around her. You were never used to her strap.

She pulled your body up so you back was against her front, "Look at yourself." She pulled your head to the side making you watch yourself get fucked, the mirror was fogged over by the heat radiation off the both of you but it didn't stop you from seeing the silhouette of her body pounding into you, "So fucking pretty— good girl— watch yourself get ruined."

Your moans filled the room with no problem, every thrust of Natasha's hips was another whimper ripped from your mouth. Each thrust pulled a sinful noise from your mouth, "Hmph— m- mommy." You couldn't even form sentences, to dumb to use that pretty head of yours.

You came around her strap within minutes, it didn't take long with the way Natasha was fucking you like an animal in heat. She pulled the strap out of you with ease, she let go of your body and you fell flat against the bed. Your pussy still leaking with wetness mixed with cum.

"So pathetic but so fucking pretty, all this mess for me."

"tell me doll, who owns you?"

"You do! You mommy."

"My good girl."

"Only for you!"

God, it was like you were trying to make her feral again. She got drunk on your words again, just her knowing that she has you all to herself. You were hers. No one else's.

She had to show people who owned you.

You were laying on your back, your legs pushed up to your chest with her long pale fingers pushed knuckle deep inside you, her lips on your neck. Marking, Owning, devouring you.

You would wear her marks with pride, you always did and you always will. The bruises came up quickly, purple and blue. The look in her eyes was hard to miss, the normal warm green now replaced with dilated and blown pupils.

Your cunt clenched around her fingers, "Oh God.. please— fuck." You didn't even know what you were begging for, you were just begging for her. For her to fuck you and never stop.

She fucked you through your 3rd orgasm, but oh no, she didn't stop. She kept going, resuming her assault and goal to ruin you on her fingers. You didn't know if you wanted to push her away or pull her closer, you didn't know if you wanted her to stop or keep going till you pass out.

"I— fuck.. I can't. Oh fuck— don' stop."

Your mind was drunk on her fingers, everything about her. She took control and you loved it. You loved the way she knew your body. She knew your body.

Aftercare came with proper care, the cuddles and her making sure you have your security blanket. She made sure you have some water and that you weren't uncomfortable, she asked a million different times if your okay.

She cleaned between your thighs with a wet cloth and put one of her oversized hoodies on your small body, making sure your comfortable for bed. She would sooth you to sleep with her voice and her fingers massaging your scalp while your head laid on her chest.

[wandaparadise]

The Roommate — Saints & Sinners

Summary: Your mother’s visit showed Natasha the reasons behind every bit of yourself. But it also unlocked something inside of you: the need to protect more than just yourself. And the aftermath was never so… delicious.

Pairing: g!p! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

Warnings(+18): mommy issues, toxic parent, R’s mother is a bitch, implied eating disorders, angst (if you squint), hurt/comfort, D/s dynamics, brat! reader, brat tamer! Natasha, possessive sex, marking kink officially unlocked, blowjob, deep throat, cum eating, oral sex, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation kink, praise kink, subspace, breath play (choking), Natasha is kind of an idiot (in love), mean-ish! Reader, sex as a weapon, fighting as foreplay, light fluff (?)

you don’t have permission to translate/repost my work anywhere. Please be respectful. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated. MDNI — Regina.

A/N: Hello there, babies ♡ This chapter is mostly to navigate a little bit more of R’s family dynamic and how that reflects on her present self. And it’s very personal to me, so I do hope you enjoy it and if you had gone through something similar I send you a big hug ♡

Also, my fangirl moment has come… shout out to @sweetromanova because she doesn’t know it but her works are my comfort place 🥹 ♡ Hi queen! Thank you for the support

The roommate official playlist «— CHECK IT OUT! (Suggestions are appreciated)

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

It was funny the way you always behaved around your mother.

For a very private and unreadable person as yourself, your emotions were always visible for anyone that dared to look close enough.

It was like watching a battle first hand. The way your heart pulled you towards her but your mind pulled you to the opposite direction. An internal conflict so loud that you could swore one of these days would actually materialise.

Naturally, that Saturday morning wasn’t any different.

You were sitting before your vanity desk. Doing carefully your makeup with a tired face. Usually, you would be glowing and full of energy but the second your mother was around, she drained it all.

Your body was hyper-aware. As soon as you saw her, something clicked inside of you and switched into survival mode; now every movement, every word, every breath was calculated and careful.

There was something ironic in the way you hated having your mother around but you still loved her. You never called but when you did, it was to seek that maternal love that never came.

You could be crying and in the middle of an anxiety attack, and your mother instead of giving you comfort words, she would start scolding you.

‘You are a brat. Your father won’t always be around to fix your mess. So figure it out, sweetheart. You are smart and very capable’

Because a lecture was what a person in distress needed. Not soothing words, not coos or at least guidance to remember how to breathe.

Being soft with a person like you was useless, you needed limits and a reality check instead of being coddled — or that was what your mother always said to justify her lack of love.

And it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to show affection. You had watched her coddle your brother, be softer and caring around him.

‘You don’t understand because you are not a mother yet. Every kid is different. Your needs are not the same as Alec’s. And just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean I don’t lecture him too’

A simple explanation, an excuse, to help you understand why the treatment was different but never explained her lack of love towards you.

In your mother’s eyes, you weren’t an easy child. No matter how hard you tried, how much you wanted to be what she wanted, your nature would never allow it.

Because she would say something to subtly attack you and you would snap back, instead of being silent and take the hit. She would mention your father and you would walk away, instead of listening to her trash the man.

Alec did all those things. He didn’t take the hit, he took a moment to comprehend what was being said. But you were just hot headed.

Alec listened to his mother vent about your father because he understood she was still hurt from the divorce, but you just didn’t care enough.

You were always the problem. Never her.

Being around her was like trying to fight the feeling of wanting her praises and still be yourself. You held onto those bits that made you who you were, and most of the time it ended with a fight after your mother pushed over and over again until you broke.

But again, it was your fault because you were impulsive and had anger issues. She was just being a loving and concerned mother.

You sighed when your eyes landed on the bruises around your neck. Your mind already voicing what your mother would say the second she had the chance.

The night before was a dream.

Neither you nor Natasha stopped to think twice about the brunch, you both looked like a masterpiece or a crime scene. But it was also a reminder of all the feelings that were displayed in bed; the need to belong and to own.

And maybe you would’ve covered them for the sake of your father; the sweet man wouldn’t dare to say a thing but didn’t need you to traumatise him.

However, with your mother there and knowing exactly what she would say, the coin was in the air.

Cover them and place nice or wear them proudly as a statement that her opinion didn’t and shouldn’t matter?

The decision was very clear, though.

You wanted her approval, but you also loved reminding her that you slipped through her fingers even when she invested so much time in you.

You were your own person. Not her mirror. Not her toy. But an actual human being that could and would think on her own, even if on the inside your gut burned with need and desperation for mommy’s love.

You stood up once your makeup was done and a knock on the door came. You didn’t need to ask who that was, you already knew so you just let out a soft ‘come in’ as you picked one perfume.

Alexander looked at you with apologetic eyes. He was taller and beefy, but in that moment he felt like an ant as your eyes met his.

You weren’t glaring at him. Actually, there wasn’t any sign of emotion in your eyes except maybe for determination. Which meant trouble.

You dressed for battle. Looking like a princess with a sword on her back. You were your own knight in shining armour because the men in your family shared something: around your mother, they submitted faster than you did.

That was probably the biggest problem.

Your father wasn’t the one to fight; he hated conflict and confrontation, always quiet even when your mother was screaming and she found that as infuriating as you standing up for yourself.

Alexander not always agreed. But he didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t push, he just listened and waited until the storm passed. Always calm and passive. Sometimes he actually told your mother off, but most of the time he didn’t say anything other than ‘I understand’.

And when it came to you, it always depended on how tired you felt or how far your mother pushed. Sometimes, you just nodded or grunted under your breath but kept quiet. However, most of the time your tongue ran before you could stop yourself.

You learned to weaponise your mother’s praises. She thought you were smart? Then smart-ass comments she would get, justifiable and with references.

You used her own words and smiled devilishly when her jaw clenched. You learned to mirror her game because it was the only way to win or, at least, to get her off your back.

She pushed and you pushed back. No matter how much your father silently pleaded or how Alexander shook his head to make you stop, you always stepped into her game.

Maybe it was to prove to yourself that you could do it, that you didn’t care as much as you thought or maybe it was because your mother was childish and she dragged you down to her own level.

Whatever it was, it never ended well.

“I tried to call you” Alec mumbled, shifting nervously as you sprayed perfume and finished putting on your jewellery “Wands did too”

“I was busy, baby” you replied softly, letting your brother out of his misery “I assume she heard about the brunch through you” he nodded, looking down as if the floor could save him and you approached him “It’s not your fault”

You caressed his cheek and he leaned into your touch. Both looking at each other with loving eyes and silent exchanges.

As kids, your mother loved to pin you against each other.

You were the smart one; better grades, better discipline, better skills. Alec was the emotional intelligent one; always sweet, always caring, always the listener.

Your mother made it a competition between you to the point that the normal sibling fight went beyond that. Curses and mean words thrown at each other to belittle and hurt.

Until, the divorce came and you realised that you only had him. Your parents would eventually die and the only person in the world that would and could understand your pain would be your brother.

Then, instead of fighting each other, you cheered and helped. You praised him for his academic attempts and he reminded you how sweet and loving you were. You still fought like any other siblings but after that, you sat, talked your feelings and hugged it out.

The competition was never meant to exist. And the fights shouldn’t be against each other but against the person that provoked them: your mother.

“She told me she missed you” Alec explained softly and you offered him half a smile “And well, I didn’t think you and Natasha…”

You chuckled “That’s alright” you stood on your tiptoes and pecked his cheek “Whatever happens, it’s not your fault. She’s an adult and you are her son, not her handler” you hugged him and he pulled you closer “I love you”

“I love you too” he whispered and kissed your forehead “Let’s go. I don’t think leaving Natasha in a room with mom it’s a good idea. Although, your father seems to be shielding her”

“Of course he is” you locked an arm around his “Always protect the innocent souls”

“She doesn’t look that innocent to me, look at that neck” he lifted your chin and you smacked his hand, making him chuckle “You know mom will…”

“Yes, and I couldn’t care less”

You joined everyone soon enough. Natasha was smiling softly as your father told her some story about you and Alec, because of course the embarrassing parent was him.

Pietro and Wanda were playing some video game, but the brunette handed the controller to Alec as soon as she saw him. And your mother was sitting with her legs crossed and bored eyes scrolling through her phone.

“Finally! I’m starving” Pietro teased and you rolled your eyes.

“You guys could’ve started without me” you replied shrugging “But please, join me”

Everyone sat at the dinning room. When Natasha tried to sit next to you, you shook your head softly with pleading eyes. You would explain everything but for that, the redhead also needed to see it to understand.

Your mother, as always, sat at the head of the table with you and your brother at her sides. Wanda sat next to you as a live-wire, ready to jump in case things got out of control because maybe your father didn’t know the Maximoff twins until recently, but your mother did and both twins hated the woman.

Your father sat next to your brother and Pietro next to Wanda. Leaving the poor and lost redhead to sit across from your mother. But the farther away Natasha was from your mother, the better. Besides, your father and Pietro were warm enough to help her out when the inevitable questions came, if they made it past you.

You helped Amelia with the food after your mother threw a snarky comment about you getting too comfortable with staff; as if your mother didn’t grow up with a housemaid at your grandmother’s.

Your mother, unlike your father, grew up with privilege. They met through college; your father had a scholarship, your mother was there because your grandmother had connections.

He was a lawyer, your mother — ironically — was a therapist.

Your father grew up with less opportunities, naturally his instinct told him his children shouldn’t and wouldn’t go through the same thing as he did once.

Your mother grew up with a lot of opportunities and money, but she loved to act that privilege didn’t give her anything. She worked as hard as your father and you were expected to do the same.

Hence why she thought you were a brat.

Your father gave you the world, afraid of you going through the same needs as him. And your mother thought that was just spoiling you.

Alec was the exception, because in your mother’s eyes, your father didn’t give him as much as he did to you. You were daddy’s little girl and he was just Alec. Another excuse to justify the unbalance between you when it came to love.

You had your father spoiling you. Naturally, your mother had to protect and love the neglected child that Alexander definitely wasn’t.

“Wanda, dear, how is your mother?” your mother started conversation when the silence stretched in the room and the only noises were the clicking of silverware against the plates.

Wanda straightened up and smiled politely. And you almost snorted. Maybe she wasn’t your blood sister but she sure as hell knew how to handle your mother.

Best friends that bonded over trauma around the same type of mother, stayed together right?

“She’s doing fine. Busy with father in Fiji, I believe. Isn’t that right, Pietro?” Wanda replied softly and Pietro simply nodded, deciding his food was more interesting.

Unlike Wanda, that always walked around with grace and politeness even when she had a sharp tongue, Pietro was always one step closer to snap at your mother.

At the beginning, your mother was sweet and caring around them. But the more the twins hung around the house, the more comfortable she felt and at some point the line blurred and she forgot to care about them being around when she scolded you.

They were now part of the family and that meant, they got to see the ugly parts.

So maybe with Natasha being new to the equation would keep your mother from being too hard on you. However, that would never stop her from voicing out what she thought.

Her defence? She was telling the truth and the truth was meant to be uncomfortable at times. She wasn’t mean, she was honest. Or that’s how she justified when her tongue ran out as if she had no filter.

The next to be questioned was your father. And the man was irritated by your mother’s presence. But he replied at every question and clenched his jaw at any passive-aggressive comment your mother threw.

It wasn’t a messy divorce. In fact, your mother claimed it was necessary and that she left because your father didn’t have the balls to do it himself.

That never stopped her to blame him for the failure of their marriage; if he only was more supportive, if he only was around more, if he only listened and fought for their love, maybe they would still be together.

And for someone that was too kind and sweet like your father, at some point he finally stopped giving a fuck what your mother thought.

He was never mean, he encouraged you to have a healthy relationship if that’s what you wanted, but he stopped pretending that your mother didn’t irritate him.

‘I care for her. I respect her as a person and as your mother. She gave me you and your brother. But we really don’t need to be friends’

Your father said something about work and you looked up immediately, glancing at your mother as she connected the dots between Natasha and your father’s work.

That could go very wrong or very well, depending on the angle your mother took. But it was hard to predict; the woman loved taking every single perspective and made it seem like she was just asking.

“Wait, are your parents Melina and Alexei?” your mother asked directly to Natasha and you saw the moment something close to anger clouded green eyes just to soften a second later and smiled politely and nodded “How wonderful! I met them once at a charity gala. Your mother is such a beautiful woman”

“Thank you” Natasha replied softly and you offered her an apologetic smile.

“And tell me, Natasha, are you the reason my daughter now has help?” she asked sweetly but it was an accusation, you clenched your jaw and looked at your father for a moment.

He sighed and nodded subtly, understanding what you were asking and willing to take the hit for the sake of Natasha.

“Actually, mother, it was my idea” you interjected before the redhead could reply and you ignored the questioning look Natasha threw you. Your eyes focused on your mother as her features hardened “I asked daddy for it. I’ve been extremely busy”

“Busy enough for you not to clean after yourself?” your mother scoffed and shook her head “After all this time you keep spoiling her” she looked at your father and he rolled his eyes but said nothing “A housemaid is a privilege, sweetheart. What will you do when your father’s money can’t pay for your lifestyle?”

Wanda’s hand landed on your thigh and gave you a gentle squeeze. Alec looked at you and shook his head. Pietro grinned and your father decided you were the only one that could take your mother down.

And Natasha noticed the shift in the air.

At first, your mother seemed really sweet and polite. Natasha couldn’t understand why everyone looked on edge at the presence of such a sweet woman that wasn’t like her mother.

No, your mother knew about the things you liked, she praised you when you weren’t in the room and talked highly of you. Why would you look so scared and conflicted in her presence?

The words came and sounded like the truth. Unlike Melina that loved to throw money at problems, your mother made money the problem. And her words somehow made sense; you couldn’t depend on your father’s money but that didn’t mean you were a brat with an expensive lifestyle.

So the air shifted and Natasha noticed how everyone was preparing to witness the start of another monumental war. And the call was yours, the redhead noticed as much.

She knew you walked around exuding power and control. Now Natasha knew where you got it from. People around you looked small and the only two titans in that apartment were you and your mother.

But what would your answer be? Would you agree with her like Natasha did with Melina to avoid conflict?

Somehow, that didn’t sound like you and Natasha confirmed it when you talked.

“Perhaps daddy won’t be around as much as I would love him to” you started softly, your voice matching the sweetness of your mother’s and looking at your dad “I can only hope any god out there keep him by my side for another hundred years” you added and looked at your mother with a soft smile, knowing how much she hated that you were always so loving around your father and never with her “But I’m sure I can keep my lifestyle just fine, mother. Nothing that daddy’s credit card and my trust fund can’t fix”

There was a time when you fought the brat accusations. Trying to prove people around you that you weren’t a brat, that it wasn’t your fault that your father gave you things, that you never asked for expensive gifts.

Until you got tired of people not listening. So if you can’t beat the enemy, join them.

However, Natasha didn’t see it coming. The rest of the table did. Pietro almost laughed, Alec sighed, your father just smiled proudly and Wanda silently scolded her twin.

And you were sitting there, embracing the silent accusation and mocking your mother’s words with sweetness. Natasha knew you only used your dad’s credit card when needed, not like it was unlimited credit. So the act was a challenge towards your mother.

The redhead almost stood up and kissed you because you looked even hotter.

“Money isn’t an unlimited resource, sweetheart” your mother replied with her brow raised and sip on her juice “What will you do when you run out?”

“Sugar daddies are a thing now, mom” you chuckled and Pietro snorted, taking the opportunity to break as if the joke itself was funny “I believe I can find one here in Manhattan”

“Beauty also runs out” she pointed and shrugged “But let’s not fight, sweetheart. We have a guest” she reminded you, as if that wasn’t Natasha’s home too “Life will prove me right”

You sighed and the conversation kept going.

Mostly, Alec would talk to her as the only one that genuinely care enough. Sometimes Wanda would chime in just for the sake of it. Your father and Pietro talked with Natasha, although the redhead kept glancing at you as you played around with your food.

Amelia made you the waffles you liked so much, Wanda even gave her the recipe. It was supposed to be a celebration brunch and now it was a war zone.

But you ate, because your mother could try to take everything away from you but your skin kept buzzing with happiness after the night before, your body craving to be with Natasha again and repeat it.

You just had to survive that morning first.

And for the first time, Natasha watched you eat eagerly. She smiled softly to herself, almost proud of you for eating without needing a push. But you were half way through when your mother’s attention went back to you.

“Are you seriously going to eat the whole thing, sweetheart?” she asked and everyone tightened their jaws except you. Because that was payback and your mother only knew how to punch were it really hurt “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, my love, but you are gaining weight”

Wanda looked at Natasha, almost as if the brunette read her mind, and she shook her head before Natasha could pick a fight with your mother.

Sometimes, they needed to give you space to work. They only intervened if your mother managed to corner you.

“They are oat waffles, mother” you said softly but dropped your fork “You know I follow a diet, but today is my cheat day”

“My dear, there shouldn’t be a cheat day” she caressed your cheek and her touch felt like a burn “You are a dancer, much to my displease, but you have to be very strict and treat your body like a temple”

“I’m also going to the gym, I run every morning and I dance. What else can I do to keep the healthy life, mother?” your voice got quieter, broken, a side of you that looked so vulnerable because your mother went for the throat and Natasha’s fingers twitched.

Everything started to make sense.

Your routines, your need to be so strict, your insistence to never skip a run and your eating habits. All of them provoked by your mother’s words.

There was a time when you didn’t care that much about your looks or your weight, but that was a battle you actually lost against her.

Silently and without noticing it, you started to change the way you dressed, what you ate and added workout to the equation.

You claimed to dress for yourself, but it was half the truth because your mother and your grandmother started praising your girlie style.

You claimed to eat healthy and workout the necessary amount, unaware that you went from zero to one hundred in a blink. A drastic change that wasn’t so healthy and all in hopes that your mother would be satisfied.

“Just try to keep going, my love” your mother’s eyes twinkled with something close to love and your heart skipped a beat “But never forget that if you slip, you will lose all your hard work”

You hummed and nodded. Gaining a proud smile from your mother when you politely asked Amelia to take your plate away. And Natasha’s heart dropped.

The silence stretched again. An uncomfortable and heavy silence that spoke volumes about everyone’s feelings towards the moment. The only one that didn’t seem crushed by it was your mother. She limited to grab your hand and rubbed circles on its back with her thumb, wearing a smile that said: good girl.

By the time everyone finished, Alec was the only one to make small talk with your mother. The family moved one by one to the living room, not daring to leave the apartment until your mother did. And you almost looked defeated.

Natasha noticed the way you started to get deep in thought, the internal conflict in your eyes and your spark fighting to be kept alive.

And she was sure you were about to cry but were too stubborn for that and maybe it was a good thing, because your mother didn’t deserve to see a single tear rolled down your cheeks.

You and your mother were the last ones to stand up. And as every time a hard topic went between you, your mother pulled you into a loving and almost warm hug.

You let yourself believe for a second that she was doing it because she cared, because maybe she was sorry for being so harsh. But that was a lie.

She hugged you because it was a reward for saying the right things. For submitting when asked instead of fighting back as you usually did.

Your mother was your never ending toxic relationship. You fought, you submitted and you hugged. And you hated knowing that even then, you loved her genuinely.

She pushed you back, eyes assessing you carefully and she tilted her head when she finally looked at your neck. Your muscles stiffened, preparing for a fight and your breath turned heavy.

“What is that, sweetheart?” she asked disapprovingly. She knew the answer and wanted to hear you say it.

Your cheeks blushed and you chuckled nervously.

“What is what, mother? Let’s join…”

“You are way too old to play dumb, (Y/N)” she cut you off and the room shifted again. Wanda held down Natasha along with your father, and the boys stopped fighting over what game to play “Do you know how you look right now? Like a cheap skank”

Your heart dropped at the words. You knew she wouldn’t like the bruises; your mother always said those were for people that have little self-respect.

You didn’t think she would be so explicit with you, though.

“I think that is enough” Natasha said, finally managing to stand up and you both looked at her. Your mother offered her an amused look and you were silently pleading her to stay out of it “She doesn’t nor she is one. I believe that’s your daughter who you are talking to”

The redhead walked up to you, rushed steps as if it was killing her being so far away from you. She stood behind you, an arm wrapped around your waist and she pulled you closer, offering your mother a defiance look.

You saw the moment your mother’s politeness left. If Natasha wanted to overstep, then she would get the whole deal like the twins did. Maybe worse.

She smiled softly with a brow raised as her eyes assessed the redhead and you wished you were bigger than Natasha to shield her from the storm.

“So you did that to my daughter” she stated and snorted “And not only did you leave her looking like that, you dragged her down with you”

“Mother” you warned, Natasha keeping you from breaking her embrace.

“No, my love, none of you are teenagers” your mother reprimanded you “Whatever you do in your intimacy shouldn’t be on display for the world to see”

“Perhaps you’ve never experienced that type of passion, mother” you retorted, your tone sharp and direct. She went low and you would go lower for Natasha “Because if you did, Alec and I wouldn’t be children of a broken home”

Your mother clenched her jaw and glanced over your father, almost expecting him to back her up because you were going after their marriage.

However, your father simply leaned back on the sofa and folded his arms. He even dared to shrug.

“Passion has nothing to do with how you are looking, my dear” she said coldly, glaring at you and you simply glared back “Does your mother approve of this, Natasha?”

“We don’t need her approval and we sure as hell don’t need yours, mother” you rushed to say before Natasha could, breaking the embrace and walking towards the closet next to the door. You grabbed your mother’s coat and purse “I believe you also overstayed your welcome”

“I’m your mother, you can’t-“

“And I’m your daughter. This is my home, not yours” you said as coldly as she talked to you “And it’s also Natasha’s. So you don’t get to stand in there and insult her” you glanced at Alec and he sighed, starting to say his goodbyes to the family and then reaching for his mother “when you are ready to apologise to her, we will be happy to have you here”

Your mother stood still, her jaw tightened and her hands fisted. Alec wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Mom, let’s go” he asked softly. Tears pricked on your mother’s eyes as she nodded, not daring to break your stare.

You handed her the purse and the coat and Alec ended up taking for her. Your face as tight as hers when she moved closer to you.

“I came here in good faith, (Y/N). You don’t have to be like that” she said carefully, trying to reach the side of you that always bent for her.

“And I believe you, mother. But you need to learn when to stop” you replied dryly and without hesitation “In the meantime, I will always stop you”

“You act like I don’t say those things because I love you” she insisted, ignoring Alec’s silent pleads to leave.

“Sometimes I believe you don’t, mother” you took a step closer and your eyes softened for a second “However, I do love you” you pecked her cheek “But you don’t get to be like that with Natasha. This is between us”

Alec ushered your mother out before she could reply and fight back. And when the door finally closed, you let out a heavy breath.

You leaned for a moment against the door, your forehead pressed against your forearm as you tried to regulate your breathing and fought the tears that threatened to roll down.

Natasha approached you but you shook your head as a silent request to give you a moment. She didn’t touch you, but she didn’t dare to move either. She just stayed, letting you know she was there and she understood.

And god, she hated that she did. Because your mothers treated you both so differently and somehow it was the same bullshit.

After a few minutes, you finally felt more like yourself. Your skin kept buzzing with frustration and anger, your head started to ache and you felt like you ran a marathon. But you told yourself the same thing over and over again:

She was gone. You were fine. It was just a memory.

And when you turned to hug Natasha, you felt like you could finally breathe. Her scent wrapped around you along with her arms, a tight hug that said all the things you both wanted and couldn’t just yet.

“Well, I certainly don’t miss my mother now” Pietro was the one to break the silence, gaining a slap on the arm from his twin, a glare from Natasha but you and your father just laughed and that was enough for him.

“And you all wonder why I divorce her” your father teased and you giggled, a sound that helped Natasha relax.

“No, dad. We don’t. We know why” you smiled softly.

(—)

The following days, Natasha was extremely sweet to the point she didn’t sound like herself as if she was trying to compensate for the lack of your mother’s love.

You understood why. It happened the same with Wanda and Pietro, both trying to pamper and coddle you as if you were something fragile, something easy to break.

And it wasn’t like you weren’t grateful for the efforts, but you hated that they felt like a pity party.

There was also the fact that after every encounter with your mother, you were grumpy as the feelings slowly washed out. You tried so hard to be an emotionally responsible person, knowing no one but dear mother had the fault, but you were only human.

So by Thursday, your patience around Natasha ran thin.

The redhead wasn’t helping her case either, that was the only thing that gave you comfort as you feel how you started to break.

After your very public display of affection, the word spread around campus like fire. And you were right, someone took a picture of you two kissing to prove that it wasn’t a rumour but an actual fact.

One would think that knowing you were in a potential relationship, people would stop trying to flirt. But no, they doubled the efforts as if you were an attraction force and Natasha was living proof that they had a chance if they tried enough.

In addition to that, Natasha’s fan club was insufferable.

Girls that once smiled softly at you, now glared at you as if you stole something that was meant to be theirs. And you were so irritated that you caught yourself thinking more than once:

‘You want her? Take her!’

As if Natasha was a thing and not a person. So after that thought, you felt bad and then you didn’t feel so bad when Natasha simply grinned at them.

They said you can take the player out of the game, but you can’t take the game out of the player. And you knew that the second you started sleeping around with Natasha.

Not once did you feel jealous or insecure because it was useless, it wasn’t your right and Natasha was old enough to make her own fucking decisions.

But the night at your studio was also a game changer. You were honest when you told her that you wanted it to be real, as scary as that sounded.

And you knew she meant her words too. But Rome wasn’t made in one day, so for Natasha to stop being that side of her would take more than a few days, holding hands and kisses.

However, that day, reason took a vacation.

Everything piled up by Thursday. Natasha’s extreme sweetness, people asking you out, girls looking at you as if they were trying to kill you and the redhead flirting without even noticing it.

So when you walked into spanish class, you saw a girl leaning down to show her cleavage to Natasha and the redhead was simply grinning with her eyes betraying her, you snapped.

When Natasha felt jealous, her first reaction would be to drag you to the closest bathroom or janitor closet and fuck you until she was sure you would be walking around dripping with her cum.

Although, you weren’t the jealous type.

Your mind screamed that it wasn’t worth it. If she wanted, she would do it. Your body begged you to go physical and fight for what was yours. And your heart simply kept shut, almost done with Natasha.

So the snap came in form of a cold shoulder.

No screaming, no fighting, nothing. A silent punishment that spoke volumes. You could walk right up to Natasha and kiss her to prove a point, but that would be too easy for the redhead.

You wouldn’t ask, you wouldn’t beg and you sure as hell wouldn’t give her the room to win. You hated repeating yourself, so this was a one time thing. And Natasha was the one to choose how to fix it.

You sat on your old spot, at the front, and you made sure there were no empty seats around you. The redhead was too busy flirting, that she failed to notice you already arrived and that only added to the trouble she was in.

By the time she realised you were there, the class started and her heart dropped when she saw you next to no other but Tyler. That wasn’t part of your plan but a win was a win.

And the blonde girl that was flirting with her sat on what was supposed to be your seat but Natasha forgot about her because Tyler was already leaning close to you and you giggled softly.

Tyler O’Connor was one of the very few guys that understood he didn’t have a chance with you but flirted with you for the fun of it. And he was very clear about it, always double checking that you were still comfortable around him and reminding you that he knew that no meant no.

He was a friend, a very handsome one but not your type. In fact, you didn’t know you had a type until Natasha came along and it made sense.

You loved challenges. And the redhead was the worst of them all.

And when Tyler heard about you and Natasha, he stopped flirting as much with you out of respect. But the redhead didn’t know that or didn’t want to understand it. Whatever it was, Tyler’s presence was the one that triggered her the most because your cheeks always blushed, you giggled and sometimes you even touched him.

And deep inside of her, she knew things weren’t official yet. That was killing her but she had your first date planned to the dot and now she was stuck waiting, watching no other but Tyler exchange silly notes during the whole class.

You were supposed to be sitting next to her, not a blonde girl whose name she already forgot. Natasha should be the one that gave you silly notes, not Tyler. You should be smacking her hand every time she tried to sneak it under your skirt, the one you let her pick for you that morning in hopes you would let her fuck you in public and silently.

So when the class finished, Natasha was about to lose it.

You didn’t plan the Tyler part but he was there and it was so easy to step into Natasha’s game that when you caught a glimpse of her rushing through the crowd to get to you, you locked your arm with your friend and started to walk out of the lecture hall.

He followed you, half because you didn’t give him another option as you dragged him down the hallway and half because he was curious about your behaviour.

And you were basically running, knowing Natasha was following you with heavy steps and close to snap someone’s neck.

When you stepped outside the building, you were almost panting but smiled innocently at Tyler that offered you an amused look.

“Why do I feel like you are getting me in trouble, angel?” he chuckled when you stopped and leaned closer to him.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” you grinned and he rolled his eyes playfully “I will make up for it?”

“Depends how far you will take this because she’s approaching and I’m not sure who she will kill first” he teased and you giggled “Remember me”

“What do you-“

In a swift move, he grabbed you by the waist and leaned your bodies down with his hand holding yours and intertwining your fingers. He winked at you as your cheeks blushed and by the time he straightened up, a very angry Natasha was next to you.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave, angel” he said softly and leaned closer to you, his breath sending a shiver down your spine when it hit your ear “You better make up for it” he whispered and you giggled again as he pecked your cheek “See you around, beautiful” then he turned to Natasha that seemed to be close to kill him on spot and he just grinned “Romanoff, looking good”

And he disappeared before Natasha actually decided to commit murder in front of everyone. The redhead folded her arms, jaw tightened as her eyes watched you carefully. But you were ignoring her and that was pissing her off even more.

You fixed your clothes, forcing her eyes down as you took longer with your skirt and made her lose focus of a second. A deadly reminder of what she missed for not keeping it in her pants.

Natasha only snapped out of her thoughts when you started to walk away. She growled under her breath but followed you, because anywhere you went now, there was a love-sick redhead behind you and ready to please you.

She first tapped your shoulder and you only looked over your shoulder and huffed. Then she tried to walk backwards in front of you and you kept dodging her, barely making eye contact with her and laughed when she tripped.

By the time you made it to the other building for finance lecture, Natasha’s nostrils were flaring and her fingers were twitching.

She acted fast as soon as she saw the janitor closet where she fucked you more than once. And she was tired of you ignoring her so was it really a surprise when she hoisted you over her shoulder?

You groaned, punching her back as if that would make her stop and when you started to protest about your skirt lifting, Natasha simply pressed her hand over your ass to secure no one but her could see the underwear you picked that morning.

Natasha only put you down when she locked the door and blocked you from going out. You growled but avoided her gaze, trying repeatedly to move past her as if you would make it at some point.

Finally, you looked at her and her green eyes were darkened with lust but mostly, wrath.

“Move” you demanded through gritted teeth and she raised a brow “Romanoff, move. I’ll be late”

She snorted but moved just an inch, giving you enough hope and when you stepped closer her hands grabbed you and pinned you against the door.

“It’s funny how you think I care about your fucking class” she said with a low and raspy voice that always got you wet, specially now that she was exuding power with one hand pressed against the door and the other one holding your hips firm “Care to explain why you are ignoring me?”

You huffed and turned your face to the side when leaned closer to kiss you. Her hand moved fast, dropping your backpack along with hers and she trapped your body.

Her lips brushed your neck, her nose inhaling your scent almost to make sure you still smell like yourself and not like Tyler and your knees almost failed you.

“Leave me alone” you grunted when she licked your neck and you pushed her off “Go with Hayley if you want to fuck so bad”

She raised a brow “Who the fuck is that?” but you just scoffed and Natasha smirked when she realised what was happening “You are jealous”

“Me? Jealous?” you snorted and pushed her again but your efforts were pointless, Natasha could be a rock when she wanted “I don’t care what you decide to do in your free time. We are not a couple”

“But we are something” she replied firmly and grabbed your chin to make you look at her “Whoever that Hayley is, I don’t like her”

“No, you liked her boobs” you tried to free your face from her grip but it was useless, again “My class started, let me go”

“You are not going to that class. In fact, you are not going anywhere but home” she retorted and when her knee sneaked between your legs, you whimpered “That blonde is just a blurred image for me. I don’t care about her nor do I want her”

“Your grin and your eyes said otherwise” you insisted and your hands were trying to keep her away from your body, knowing your skin was now burning with need “I’m deadly serious right now, let me go”

“My statement stands, you are not going anywhere. Not to class, not to the gym and not to dance practice” she husked and pushed your body even more “You lost your privileges to walk around free”

You snorted “My privileges? You don’t fucking own me, Romanoff”

“But I do, princess” she smirked devilishly and leaned closer to your ear, making you bite your lower lip “Maybe your little time around Tyler made you forget who actually makes you feel good” she whispered and you held back a moan “That girl means nothing to me, what about Tyler?”

“He is just a friend, how many times do I-“ her hand wrapped around your throat and you gasped, your hands grabbing her wrist but you weren’t sure if you wanted to make her stop or squeeze harder.

“A friend? I’ve been fucking playing nice, don’t make me start to choose who you talk to” she grunted and her grip tightened “Tell your friend to stop touching what’s mine”

“I’m not-“

“Do not finish that sentence” she whispered, her fingers digging into your neck that for a moment you swore she could break you if she tried enough “Because it sounds to me like you need a fucking reminder” she finally loosened her grip when your face turned red and you coughed “On your knees”

“The floor is filthy” you defended and her hands pushed you down “Romanoff” you warned but she ignored you.

“Open up” she commanded and you pursed your lips, making her roll her eyes with annoyance. One hand grabbed your chin and the other one pinched your nose. And you held your breath as long as you could until you finally gave in “Stop making this harder on yourself” she gritted her teeth when she pushed two fingers inside your mouth and you bit her “I’m serious. Suck or you will only make it worse” she warned you and as much as you wanted to see how far you could push, you sucked her finger “Good girl”

After a couple of minutes, she pulled out her fingers and crouched before you. Her fingers tugged your hair as she kissed you roughly and as much as you wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening, you knew your underwear was more than ruined by now.

However, that didn’t stop you from keep defying her when she broke the kiss and smirked. And what you did wasn’t so lady-like of you, but she cornered you and you were still upset with her.

You spat on her face.

“Fuck you” you grunted as her eyes closed and she exhaled slowly.

Her thumb cleaned her face and then she licked it, green eyes focused on you more angry than before but also extremely turned on.

“That’s it, we are leaving” she said and reached for you backpack, already knowing where you kept the car keys “I was planning on only making you skip one class, but now I’m deadly serious”

“I’m not leaving with you” you whimpered as she pulled you up with force. You weren’t so sure about the logistics of her next movements, but Natasha managed to hoist you over her shoulder and carried both backpacks as she made her way out of the closet “Put me down, you moron”

“Why don’t you shut up?” she said calmly and ignoring curious looks of people that walk past you as she made her way to your car.

“This is the last time we ride together” you grunted, tiny fists still trying to punch her as if that would make Natasha change her mind.

“No, it’s not. And if you keep it up, I will make you come to college in the bike and not the car” she warned and you huffed. She threw your backpacks on the backseat and then gently sat you down on the passenger seat. Buckling your seatbelt and pecking your cheek as you kept frowning “Are you seriously keeping up the act?”

“Are you seriously an idiot?” you snapped back and flipped her off “I’ll jump out of the car”

“It’s an empty threat” she shrugged and leaned closer “Because if you really wanted to do it, you wouldn’t warn me”

“You know what? Fuck you, Romanoff”

“That’s exactly what I’m planning to do. Over and over again until you remember your fucking place” she smirked and you whimpered “And if I have to keep you in lockdown tomorrow and do everything all over again until you are fucking dripping with my cum and you forget your name” her face got closer to yours “I will do it”

“No one has that much stamina” you retorted but your knees clasped together and she chuckled.

“It’s sounds like a challenge to me” she kissed your lips and bit your lip, finally coaxing a moan out of your throat “Now, shut up”

“Or what?”

But she just smirked and closed the door.

(—)

The redhead drove painfully slow and as much as you wanted to say you got turned off during the ride, she made sure that didn’t happen.

Her hand sneaked under your skirt and her fingers pressed over your clit, fastening her movements to make you break and slowing down when your moans turned desperate. And every time you tried to start scolding her, she turned up the music up and started again.

By the time you arrived to your building, your underwear was officially trash. Your legs were wobbly and even if you wanted to walk, Natasha didn’t give you a chance.

She opened the door, startling Amelia that was cleaning the kitchen and Natasha greeted her cheerfully as she dropped your backpacks inside the closet and smacked the back of your thigh when you tried to scream.

“Don’t mind her, she’s moody” Natasha said softly and pecked Amelia’s cheek “Amy, why don’t you take the rest of the day off, hm?”

“But Ms Natasha…” Amy started softly and you grinned proudly.

“Yes, Ms Natasha, let sweet Amy do her job” you cheered and whimpered when Natasha slapped your thigh again “Stop that”

“You shut up” Natasha said firmly and smiled at the woman “I’ll pay double”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-“

“One hundred percent sure, Ames” Natasha smiled truthfully “Text me the details for a transfer or do you want it in cash?”

“Transfer is alright” she mumbled shyly and Natasha nodded “Do you want me to leave dinner ready?”

“No, it’s okay. We’ll order takeout” the redhead replied and pecked her cheek again, slapping your thigh again when you started to protest “See you tomorrow, Ames”

You sighed defeated and waved at Amelia when she looked at you half worried but extremely amused. Out of everyone that could be traumatised by you two, Amelia got it the worse. But she never said anything, not once. She just looked at you both knowingly and didn’t judge.

If anything, she was the first one to notice you two were falling in love before anyone else.

Natasha walked to her room and ignored your whines when you said you wanted your bed. As if she would care what you wanted. Besides, the redhead had been waiting to add something to your sex life.

She planned on proposing it to you after the date but with your attitude that day, she knew the perfect moment arrived.

The redhead locked the door and put you down. She almost expected you to try to run but instead, Natasha got a slap followed by kiss.

Your hand sneaked inside her sweatpants and wrapped around her cock, jerking her off as you kissed her and she moaned. For a second, she lost focus as her mind felt hazy and drunk on you.

But when her hips moved closer to yours, you broke the kiss and pulled out your hand as you smirked.

“It doesn’t feel nice to be fucking teased, right?” you pushed her and she growled “Now, the games were fun and all but if I leave now I’ll make it to my last class. Give me the keys”

“You really are something else” she snorted and walked inside her closet. You heard her unlocking her safe and she placed there your phones, the car keys and the bike keys just in case and locked it again.

“You are fucking kidding me” you groaned when she walked out “This is kidnapping. I’m officially being kidnapped”

“You and I know that’s not how kidnapping works, princess” she rolled her eyes at your dramatic sigh “Strip”

“You can take my things, but you won’t fuck me” you flipped her off and sat at the edge of the bed “Besides, I’m already turned off”

“Wanna bet?” she raised a brow and laughed when you crossed your legs. She crouched before you and fingers caressed your thigh “I’ll ask one last time and as a demonstration of how much I respect you”

“Respect me? If you respected me, you wouldn’t be fucking flirting with anything that moves” you snarled and she breathed out heavily.

“Yes, I respect you. Maybe you don’t believe me now, but I don’t want anyone else” she said softly as your body trembled with anger but your heart fluttered “As I was saying, I’ll say this one last time or you will regret it” she warned you “Strip”

“How about you go and fuck yourself, hm?” you turned your face to the side with your chin up and Natasha scoffed but said nothing.

Instead, she stood up and pulled you up along with her. At first, it looked innocent when her fingers traced your collarbone and then played with the neck of your blouse. But then, both hands tugged the fabric and started to tear it apart.

You gasped and looked at her in awe.

She tossed your ruined blouse onto the floor and did the same thing with your skirt, ignoring you when you tried to stop her. The redhead was only satisfied when your underwear joined the rest of the your clothes and took a step back to admire your naked body.

“Don’t act so surprised, princess. I warned you” she shrugged and when you tried to slap her, she stopped you “And stop acting like I won’t take you to the Fifth Avenue and buy you pretty clothes” she added and you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck you, Romanoff” you spat and she remained unbothered “Those clothes…”

“… were touched by Tyler” she sentenced and got closer “Stop fighting me. Stop fighting this” her lips brushed yours and her thumb traced your jaw “You are mine but most importantly, I am yours”

Natasha kissed you before you could even think of something to say. A kiss that tasted like the absolute truth along with a promise. It was heated, desperate and powerful. Your skin tingled and the world muffled around you.

A part of you wanted to keep fighting and Natasha kept you in line without trying that hard. A reminder that no matter how sweet she was lately, in bed she would always have total control over you. The redhead didn’t even ask for it, you gave it to her and she used it wisely.

So with you behaving like a fucking brat and with Natasha needing to prove a lot of things to you and herself, it was inevitable that she had to overpower you.

Someone needed to put you back in place. Not someone, Natasha did. Only she knew how and when, even if you hated to admit that she had started to know you too well. And her words remained as the truth.

She was yours and you were hers.

Silently, she broke the kiss and walked to her nightstand. Opened a drawer and pulled out a red ribbon and you raised a brow but she didn’t even grin. No, it was a moment to be serious.

It was a day to make a fucking statement.

Natasha stood behind you and grabbed your arms gently, folding them on your back and securing your wrists in silence. The redhead took her time to check you were safe and then moved around you.

“Do you really want to stop?” she asked carefully.

“No” you admitted and stood on your tiptoes to kiss her “Thank you for asking”

“Always” she pecked your lips one last time and when back to position “Well, in that case, let’s put you back in place”

“You know, being dominant doesn’t suit you” that was a fucking lie because your thighs were dripping with your slick. She ran a finger over your slit and licked it “That means nothing. Actually, I think that’s Tyler’s work”

Natasha snorted “Sure it is. You are such a bad liar”

“Am I? There was a moment when you weren’t watching” you smirked and her eyes darkened “We are friends, but friends kiss sometimes right? You taught me that” Natasha growled and she wasn’t so sure if you were just provoking her or telling the truth now “And since you and I are nothing, I thought finding out if his lips were as soft as they looked wouldn’t hurt”

“Enough” she snarled and you looked at her amused, green eyes even more darkened than before as you watched her lose patience “You are playing with fire”

“I don’t think I am” you shrugged, your eyes glancing down and you smirked at the sight of her bulge and looked at her “I think he is bigger even, my hand actually…”

Natasha pushed you down with force, making you drop on your knees and pushed her sweatpants down. Her cock sprung out against your face and you instinctively opened your mouth.

The redhead would’ve mocked you if her blood wasn’t boiling because of your words, so she only limited herself to push her dick inside and all the way to the back of your throat. You tried to move your hands and the ribbon kept you in place, leaving you at Natasha’s mercy.

“Did you want him to do this to you, hm?” she uttered and her hips moved back slowly just to push herself again with more force and your eyes started burning “Because I don’t think he would be able to stuff your mouth like I do” she repeated her motions and you choked and she tutted “Breathe through your nose, princess. That’s it, just like that”

Natasha kept fucking your mouth like you were a freaking fleshlight. And you tried to hold back tears, still refusing to give in but your body was now reacting on its own.

Your mascara was ruined in seconds, your face red as she deep throated you and you weren’t sure how was that possible when at that point you’ve given her a fair amount of blowjobs. Was she holding back all this time?

She pulled out and placed her cock over your face. You swallowed and panted.

“I think I should take a picture, your face is the perfect reference to prove my size” Natasha smirked and you growled.

“Fuck y-“ but the redhead pushed her dick back and raised a brow as you glared at her.

“I should send him a fucking picture” she whimpered as one of her hands tugged your hair and she jerked her hips “He dares to call you angel but forgets Lucifer was once an angel too” she smiled devilish as your face started turning red again, the vein in your forehead popping “What would you do if people knew that the cute little angel they all worship is nothing but a fucking slut for my cock?” you growled and your teeth threatened to bite her and she tutted “None of that. I will pull out and you will apologise for even thinking about it”

Natasha pulled out slowly, wearing her insufferable smirk that was driving you crazy and making you resist even when you knew you already lost the battle.

But you would push until she fucking destroyed you.

The redhead raised her brow expectantly and you licked your lips. Taking a deep breath as you looked down for a moment, and she believed you were done fighting when you looked up with doe eyes.

“I’m sorry” you started and she hummed proudly, you cleared your throat and then your cute eyes sparked with mischief and your smirk grew “I’m sorry I’m thinking of…”

Natasha silenced you again with her cock and she went rougher, taking only a moment to get rid of her tee as sweat rolled down her forehead and glistened her body.

And maybe she wasn’t aware of the effect her body had on you, but at the sight of her naked upper half your will-power started to break inside you.

Your throat relaxed even more and your nose brushed her abdomen as she grabbed your head with both hands.

“There’s my good girl” she moaned as you gagged around her cock, noticing the way your body started to relax when she helped you bobbed your head “Let’s try it again, shall we? Apologise for everything and I will reward you with my cum in that pretty mouth, yes?”

She pulled back and your lips popped at the tip. Natasha took a second to admire the work of art you were. Mascara ruined, tears still streaming down, your chin coated with drool and pre-cum and your pupils fully blown out.

Natasha waited as you took a deep breath and your lower lip trembled.

“I’m sorry, daddy” you mumbled and she smirked.

“What was that, princess?” she asked with feigned concern and you closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.

“I’m sorry, daddy” you gritted your teeth with a fake smile and Natasha’s smirk faded.

The redhead crouched in front of you and her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard enough that you were sure she was definitely imprinting her fingers around your neck. Her jaw tightened and she leaned closer.

“You will apologise again. And you will fucking mean it” she ordered as your eyelids looked heavy and your ears started ringing “From the top, princess”

You gasped when she let you go, you coughed for a few seconds as your mind started feeling way more hazy and your head started spinning. But the worst part was the ache between your legs; you were sure that if you looked down, your slick would be pooling on the floor.

“I’m really sorry, daddy” you said in total surrender, your watery eyes looking at green ones that twinkled with pride “I’m so sorry for everything”

Natasha brushed her thumb over your swollen lips and kissed you tenderly as her fingers caressed your cheek. She pressed her forehead against yours and brushed her nose against yours.

“That’s my good girl” she whispered and pecked your lips “You are forgiven, princess. I believe I promised you a reward, but before I do that… Open up” you did as told and Natasha’s fingers lifted your chin, a drizzle of her saliva made it to your mouth and you didn’t know it was possible to get more wet “Swallow, princess” you did it and she smiled “Good girl”

Natasha stood up and her breath hitched when finally your resistance left and you looked at her with devotion. You told her silently you were still hers.

Only hers.

The redhead pushed one last time her cock and now was gentle, knowing that your jaw was probably burning but you silently pleaded her to go rough.

She whimpered and started to fuck your mouth as you wanted. Natasha focused on your gagging noises, the way your mouth wrapped around her and how you let her guide you with not an ounce of resistance. As if you were letting her know you were her toy, you were hers to use however she pleased.

“Fuck, princess, you look so pretty like that” her thrusts fastened and her fingers tugged your hair and you whimpered “Yes, you are my pretty slut aren’t you? Not Tyler’s, mine” your eyes rolled back at her words, it was the sense of belonging, knowing she wanted to own you in every way — drove you to the edge too “My princess. My slut. Mine”

Your moan was muffled by her cock but the waves sent more pleasure to Natasha and she tossed her head back, and with a few more rough and fast thrusts she looked at you and spilled inside of your mouth, pulling your head all the way down until your nose brushed her skin.

Natasha screamed your name and you came without being touched. Enjoying every delicious second of being used by her.

She pulled out and watched the way you swallowed, your eyes as hazy as your mind. You licked your lips and she leaned to brush your now dry tears.

“You are so fucking perfect” she pulled you up and kissed you tenderly. You whimpered as she undid the ribbon and guided you to the bed “We are not done, princess. I need you to understand who you belong to”

You nodded eagerly, brattiness long gone as she manhandled you in bed. She raised your arms and tied them to the headboard with the ribbon.

And Natasha started to work.

The last few days, she stopped marking your body after your mother’s words and it was also driving you crazy. But that Thursday, she forgot about it, she stopped caring because your mother would never understand the burning need to own you.

You were something so precious, so perfect and so easy to lose if Natasha wasn’t careful. The redhead needed the world to know that every inch of your body as hers now, that she wasn’t stepping down but she would fight for you.

But most importantly, marking you as hers was also giving herself to you. She had never done it with anyone else, maybe she should mention that to you so you believed her when she said she was yours.

So every bruise made over your body that day was a statement, a promise, an oath and the liberty to show them all that you were the only one she wanted.

Natasha left a trail of bruises all over your skin. She started with your neck as always, then with your collarbone, then came your chest and that was usually where she stopped but that day she went down.

Bruises were made over your ribs, your abdomen, the curve of your hipbones. It was ownership and worshipping because she went for every part of your body that she adored.

And you were a moaning mess, pulling the ribbon and jerking your hips as you felt the way you got wetter. And when she reached your thighs and marked them too, you were about to lose it.

“Daddy, please, I need you” you begged, voice raspy and sore, and Natasha hummed.

“I know, princess, but I’m working” she said licking your thigh over the bruise she left “I’m almost done”

You mewled as Natasha continued and when she was finished, she knelt to look at you. Your body was covered in bruises, marks that looked perfect over your milky skin.

A true masterpiece.

She leaned and spread your legs. You gasped when her lips wrapped around your swollen clit and your vision blurred. It was like your senses were heightened and Natasha was a starved woman.

You loved when she went down on you but that day she did it with intention. Reminding you that no one would ever make you feel like that.

Natasha Romanoff did ruin you for everyone.

You jerked your hips up, and she let you use her face. Her nose, her lips and her chin coated with your slick. And she usually would use her fingers, but you were so desperate that the redhead knew her mouth would be enough.

Your moans turned into desperate screams. You chanted her name like a prayer and Natasha felt how she was getting hard again.

You pressed your face against your arm, hands pulling the ribbon as your hips moved and Natasha’s tongue swirled all over your cunt. And your head turned heavy, buzzing with pleasure as you came all over her face.

Both moaned as Natasha helped down from your high. You were a panting mess, legs trembling as she gave you kitten licks and kissed your inner thighs and then crawled up.

Natasha hovered your body and noticed your dreamy eyes. She kissed you again, letting you taste yourself with a sloppy kiss. You whimpered, feeling the way your head was fighting to keep focus but a floaty feeling started to take over.

“One more, princess” Natasha murmured against your lips “You are doing amazing” you moaned at her words, the praises wrapping your floaty mind as she pushed herself inside “You are mine and I’m yours”

Natasha’s movements were slow at first, enjoying the way you were moaning and unable to talk. And she could’ve mocked you, degrade you a little more but she was now aware of your state.

The redhead read about subspace, she always played with the idea of how interesting would be to watch someone like that. And now that she was aware that you were entering that state, she understood how beautiful it was.

But she needed to be careful.

Her movements went faster when you whimpered impatiently. Natasha almost giggled because even when you now couldn’t talk, your bossy self of course was still alive.

The redhead gave it to you; she would give you anything you asked. She lifted your legs up to her shoulders and fucked you with purpose.

She reduced you to nothing but a moaning and whimpering mess and Natasha was right there with you. Her hips jerking as she pounded you desperately.

Velvety walls started to clench around her cock and she tried to hold back until you came first. Her thumb rubbed your clit and you screamed, your back arching as your hands pulled the ribbon trying to ground yourself.

When you finally came and your face contorted with nothing but pleasure, Natasha swore it was the most beautiful image she had ever witnessed. And that was more than enough to make her cum inside you.

You both moaned, your eyes trying to focus on her as you felt the way she was filling you up. But your vision was blurred and you just whimpered enjoying the fullness.

Natasha slowed down, grunting when she kept fucking her cum inside of you. And when she finally pulled out, you winced — already missing the contact.

The redhead was careful with you. She placed your legs slowly down to the bed and you whined when she walked to her closet, going directly to her bathroom and bringing back some lotion.

It was like watching a silent movie, being there but not really. Floaty mind and blurry eyes following carefully Natasha’s movements as she undid the ribbon and rubbed lotion in your wrists.

Then she rubbed your body with more lotion and you whined again when she left your side. But she came back with baby wipes and cleaned you up.

Her sheets were ruined along with your clothes and maybe yourself. And Natasha couldn’t find in herself to care.

Once she was done, she got rid of her sports bra so you could have skin to skin contact. You weren’t vulnerable, you were safe.

Natasha wrapped her arms around your limped body, pulling you closer and you managed to wrap yourself around her. She smiled when you nuzzled her neck and placed a soft kiss.

“I’m truly yours” Natasha whispered and kissed your forehead “Did you really kiss him?” she asked nervously and you just shook your head, still unable to talk as your mind settled “So you said it to piss me off” she chuckled and your grip tightened around her body “Well, you are mine right?” and the reply came in form of a soft kiss, a simple and truthful ‘yes’.

The redhead hummed and held you close. Letting you drift away between her arms as she whispered sweet nothings, praises that didn’t come with conditions but sounded like the truth.

And if the last few weeks weren’t enough to clarify your feelings and intentions with Natasha, that Thursday you came to the same conclusion as the redhead did days before:

You were so fucked because it wasn’t your body craving her only. Your heart did it too with an intensity that almost hurt.

However, you were ready.

(—)

Sadly for Natasha, sex didn’t make you forget.

It wasn’t that you were holding a grudge. In fact, you weren’t even mad anymore because Natasha did fuck you good and made sure you were fine at all times. But, of course, she had to grin triumphantly once you came back to your senses.

At first, you spent some more time in bed making out and fucked at least two more times even when your body was sore and your mind was threatening to shut down.

The night arrived and the redhead ordered takeout against your will, but you ate a little and drank way too much water as if you spent a month in the desert.

And when she wrapped your body in clean sheets and pulled you closer, you took a moment to be real with her before going back to make her suffer.

“I think I needed that” you started, eyes focused on your fingers tracing circles over her abdomen “but I need to say something”

“Is this about that girl-“ she started and you slapped her stomach “That hurt” she whined and you looked up.

“Good, you deserve it but we will get there” you huffed but pecked her jawline “I want to start by saying I appreciate the effort” you went back to caress her abdomen and Natasha hummed “but I don’t need you to coddle me when my mother makes an appearance” you said softly and Natasha grabbed your chin tenderly and made you look at her.

“What do you mean? Do you call what we just did coddle?” she smirked and you rolled your eyes “Kinky”

“No, asshole. I meant all your…” you pursed your lips trying to find the words “attempts to cheer me up after that day. You were so sweet that it was almost scaring me” Natasha chuckled and you slapped her stomach again “I’m serious. And don’t get me wrong, I liked it but I needed to feel normal” you sighed and rested your head over her chest “not like you were taking pity on me because my mother is a bitch”

Natasha’s fingers caressed your naked back, looking at the ceiling as she gave it a thought. She didn’t feel pity towards you, your mother was indeed a total bitch but maybe the redhead did try to compensate for all the things your mother didn’t give you.

She wanted to protect you, even when she knew how strong you were.

“I’m sorry” she said softly and kissed the top of your head “It wasn’t pity, but well your mother is…” she cleared her throat nervously, you weren’t dating yet and maybe trashing your family wouldn’t be a great idea “… a complex woman”

You snorted and looked at her “You can say it. She’s a bitch” you giggled and pecked her lips “but nice job, Romanoff. You are not so stupid after all”

“I have my moments” she grinned and that’s when you remembered that Natasha wasn’t free from torment. You straddled her lap and the redhead raised a brow with amusement “Again? I can do it” she smirked, and her hands started to roam your body but you smacked them.

“Now, let’s discuss something way more important” you announced and Natasha swallowed nervously when she noticed the glint of mischievousness in your eyes. Your fingers dug into her cheeks, squeezing and pressing so hard her face ached “First, I am sick of your fan club. I don’t care about all the chicks you’ve fucked but I sure as hell don’t need to know who they were”

“But I can’t control-“ she managed to say and you squeezed harder, leaning closer and she gulped again.

“You can and you will. I don’t know how you will keep your bitches in line, but if I have to deal with one more of them” your nose brushed hers and she squeaked, you looked terrifying “you will wish you had kept it in your pants all these years”

You let her go and Natasha let out a heavy breath as she tried to adjust her jaw and rubbed her cheeks. Seriously, people thought you were so kind and caring when in reality you were a tiny monster ready to kill. But she knew the truth, the real you.

Only Natasha dared to dance with the devil, though.

“You know that’s a very long list of-“ you threatened to slap her and she raised her hands in surrender “I’ll deal with it, yeah. In fact, I know how” she smiled sheepishly and you raised a brow with your hand still in the air “Go out with me”

You lowered your hand, tapping your chin as if you were giving it a thought. The yes was on the tip of your tongue, but Natasha didn’t deserve to get things easy. No, she deserved to suffer.

You sighed and she looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“No” you replied dryly and her eyes widened, tainted with something in between fear and disbelief.

“What do you mean no? But we agreed-“ she stuttered and sat with you still in her lap, hands holding your hips as if that would ground her.

“No, you said you were going to take me on a date” you retorted and Natasha grimaced “I didn’t say I would accept”

“But I- please?” she pouted and you tilted your head slightly to the side “Friday. Next week. You, me, and a wonderful date I already planned” Natasha offered at your lack of response.

You were being mean, you knew as much when her lower lip trembled and she swallowed nervously. But green eyes kept looking at you hopeful and caring. And even then, you weren’t about to make it easy for her.

No, because she had her fun.

Natasha degraded you, fucked you, made you skip all your fucking classes and dragged you around campus as if you were nothing but a rag doll. And yes, you enjoyed every second of it — except the classes part, but it was one day. But she was fucking flirting in front of you and she thought she got away with it by giving you the best sex of your life.

“I’m busy” you shrugged and she frowned “Why don’t you ask Hayley out, hm?”

Natasha whined, collapsing against the bed again and she grabbed one pillow, placed it over her face and screamed. And you pursed your lips trying to hold back laughter, watching her throw a tantrum and when you were about to climb down her lap, she stopped you and looked at you with her face red and pouty.

“I don’t want her, didn’t I make that clear?” she asked looking down your body with all the bruises and you followed her gaze and gasped, looking at her in disbelief “Oh yes, princess. Ownership never looked so beautiful”

You smacked her arm and stood up to look at yourself in the mirror of her bathroom.

The redhead moulded you. Officially you were a crime scene with all the bruises over your skin. And your mind ran all the possible combinations of clothes to hide at least most of them and you whined when you realised there was no way you would be able to hide all of that.

You stormed back and Natasha kept grinning so proud of herself that you didn’t regret making her suffer. You grabbed a pillow and started to punch her with it.

“You. Stupid. Asshole” you grunted and she laughed “What the fuck is wrong with you? You know my workout clothes won’t cover all of these right?” you kept going and Natasha only laughed, doing the bare minimum to stop you “I have a life outside campus, I have dance practice too!”

Natasha finally grabbed your wrists, tossed the pillow onto the floor and pushed you down over the bed. Hovering your body and wearing a smirk.

“Good, now everyone will know you have an owner” she kissed your neck and you huffed.

“I’m not a fucking dog” you whimpered “And I don’t have clothes for this”

“Wear mine” she suggested and you huffed again.

“There’s no way in hell I will look like an expensive homeless person” you grunted and she looked at you with a grin “How am I suppose to style that?”

“You will manage” she shrugged and you rolled your eyes “Go out with me”

“No”

“Go out with me, please”

“I said no”

“I’ll do anything for a yes”

And maybe Natasha should’ve known better, but she meant every word. That didn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine when you smirked devilishly.

“Anything?” you asked innocently.

Natasha weighted the idea of taking it back but she was afraid that it was the only way for you to agree.

“Yes, anything” she said softly.

In a swift move you rolled your bodies again and straddled her abdomen. You lifted her arms above her head and held her down, your body leaning close and she felt her cock twitch.

“You have exactly one week to prove me, I’m the only one” you started, softly and sweetly. A tone that made her believe you weren’t asking for much, because that was easy. She could do it, right?

“Done. So is that a yes?” she breathed out when you moved closer to her neck and you licked it.

“Oh, I’m not done, Ms Romanoff” you whispered in her ear and she swallowed “One week of no flirting with anyone” you looked at her, nails tracing her collarbone as if they were a knife “One week to learn how to fucking control those curious eyes” you continued and she bit her lower lip.

“I can do that” she stuttered when your hips moved lower, feeling her hard on against your cunt but it was as if you were immune to her for once. You didn’t even moan “Consider it done”

You chuckled, a sound so sweet that Natasha knew you were about to throw the real bomb on her.

“One week to train your dick to only get hard for me” you continued, watching her carefully and she gulped “I know when you look for me all turned on and it wasn’t me who did that” you shrugged, hand wrapping around her length and she whimpered when you placed the tip in your entrance.

“Princess, I’m only human” she breathed out and you pushed your hips down her dick, making her moan but again it was like she did nothing to you “I see a cute girl and my body-“

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to go out with me” you said with feigned confusion “My apologies, Ms Romanoff. Let me get out of-“

“No! Wait” she whined desperately before you could move away and you smirked, clenching your walls and she moaned “I’ll do it. You-“ you rolled your hips and she whimpered “you are the only cute girl in my eyes…”

“Mhm, go on”

“The only one I want” she stuttered as you kept moving your hips “I- I will do it, I’m yours, just please-“

“Please what, Ms Romanoff? Please don’t stop? Please go out with me?” you grinned, moving a little faster and Natasha moaned louder.

“Both” she exhaled desperately and you smiled.

“In that case, let me finish my conditions” you leaned closer to her ear and she grunted “One week of no sex. Not with me. Not with anyone”

“But princess-“ you straightened up and raised a brow, staying still with her deep inside of you. You squeezed her dick again and she moaned “Yes, fine. No sex”

“Look at you, so obedient” you caressed her cheek and leaned to kiss her roughly, as she moaned and jerked her hips up trying to move “And like you said…” you whispered against her lips “As a demonstration of the respect I have for you” you rolled your hips and Natasha knew this was her punishment, a delicious one “You can fuck me one last time before you start with your detox. Enjoy, daddy!”

And it took everything in her not to cum right then and there, because she just signed her death sentence. But the redhead knew it was going to be worth it.

You were worth it.

———

For more chapters, visit: series masterlist

[blog-of-agony-and-despair]

No one’s ever had me. not like you.

You and Natasha Romanoff have always had..something. Your are Tony Starks younger sister and from the moment she walked into stark industries all those years ago as “Natalie Rushman” you knew she’d be something to you. you weren’t even sure if she was into women, nevermind yourself…but one bad breakup, two bottles of wine and purple nail polish changes that.

Warnings: wlw, reader is an avenger, reader is fresh out of a breakup, bi!reader, smut- dom!nat sub!reader, thigh grinding, oral!reader receiving, hair pulling, dirty thoughts, mentions of and use of masturbastion, sex in a kitchen. heavy drinking, reader is a stark, making out, reader’s favourite colour is purple in this, swearing, mentions of stress.

Purple nails and red stains.

You press the hang up button of your girlfrie- well, now, ex-girlfriend. The two of you were together for just over six months- she wasn’t..the best girlfriend but she wasn’t the worst you’ve had either.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you think the one reason youve never been able to keep a girlfriend over the past five years is because they haven’t been her.

They haven’t been Natasha.

You’ve been pretty much in love with nat since you were 23- back when she used her fake persona “Natalia.” It started off as just a girl who happened to be very, very attractive. She came into stark industries with an aura of confidence you and only ever seen on tv. Her smile sent a certain shiver down your spine and seeing her casually take down happy as if he wasn’t 5x her size didn’t help your situation either.

But the more time you spent with her? Your feelings sorta..expanded. Through your brothers crash out you found out her real name was Natasha Romanoff, you both became avengers in 2012 when Loki attacked New York and you fought together, you took (attempted to take) down the winter solider with her, Sam and Steve..had to watch her kiss Steve..which wasn’t fun. You then had to watch her flirt with banner..

You’ve had a couple of..moments with her. Eye contact for longer than necessary, your body pressed against hers whilst sparring, times when she’s saved you and you’ve saved her..

You’ve imagined things..the way her lips would feel against yours- the taste of her lipstick, how good she’d feel sat on your face- how skilled her hands most definitely are after so many years of handling weapons..

you’ve spent one too many nights with your hand down your underwear picturing it. Picturing her…there have been literal days where you’ve had to avoid eye contact with the ex-assasin.

At times you think she might actually like you back- but then that gets crushed when you remember you’re a girl. And she’s a girl. And she’s probably not into girls. Amazing, right? Cool stuff.

You’ve always wanted to ask her if she’d be interested in you..if she’d go out for drinks with you as something more than ‘girls night.’ (Which was your excuse the last time you asked her out)

But it’s Nat. as much as you do love her, she’s one of your closest friends. Being the only two female avengers meant you had a certain connection- and you don’t want to ruin that connection or make anything awkward. Even if it kills you inside. You can’t loose her because of some stupid feelings..

You take a deep breath as you continue down the sidewalk, your heart now racing and your shoes click harder on the floor. Fuck your ex. Fuck her life. Fuck the stupid feelings you have for Nat and fuck how uncomfortable your heels are.

You had spent the entire day fixing yet another one of Tony’s messes and you’ve had cameras and reporters in your face all day. So you know what? Fuck your brother too.

By the time you get inside- hot tears are threatening to fall. You throw your bag and jacket onto the couch as you walk past it, towards the kitchen. You need a drink.

You sniffle as you open the cupboard that Tony’s dedicated to countless bottles of Wine, Vodka, whiskey..it’s times like this you actually somewhat appreciate your brother’s alcoholism.

“Having a party?” You hear the teasing tone in Natashas voice as she walks into the living room from the elevator. “You should have told me, I’d have come earlier.” You sniffle and grab two bottles of the first wine you see with your right hand. “Something like that.” You wipe your face with your left before you turn.

“Are you crying?” She quickly walks towards you- a worried look on her face. “Why are you crying?” Her eyebrows furrow in worry and confusion.

Now- this is just great. Just the person you want to see right now. The irony of this entire situation is pure gold- your sure whatever gods are up there are laughing their smug asses off at you right now.

“It’s nothing-” you sniffle again, leaning against the counter behind you..you finally look at her- and you can’t hold it in. You let out a small sob-

“My feet hurt after wearing heels all day, my girlfriend broke up with me and I’ve had to deal with Tony’s bullshit all day again.” You blurt out weakly, the tears falling without you even realising- you put the bottles on the side.

She stops in her track- less than two feet away from you. The information hits Natasha pretty quick and she feels a weird pang in her stomach..before she forces herself to put a more comforting expression on her face- realising how hurt you must be-

“Oh, honey..” She quickly moved closer and hugs you, her arms wrapped around your waist. That nickname..honey. God if she only knew the effect she had on you.

You rest your chin on her shoulder as you hug her back tightly- your chest pressed against hers and your arms wrapped around her lower back..you tilt your head slightly to just…breathe her in. She smells so good..like vanilla and strawberries..she feels so nice against you..why can’t you stay stay here forever?..basking in her..

You’d keep her against you forever if she’d let you.

She leans back just enough so she can look you over- her arms and hand still on your body…you don’t dare ring your own away- who knows when the next time you’ll be able to hold her and touch her like this is?

“Let’s drink.” She nods and you quickly nod with her, grabbing the two bottles back off the counter- you grab two wine glasses and sniffle again, holding them both up towards her.

The two of you end up on the floor an hour later- your heels thrown somewhere in the kitchen and two glasses of wine in your hands. One bottle of the two has been fully drank and the second is already half gone. Your both tipsy- your upset and kinda horny and she’s a very good listener...

“I just- I didn’t..I wasn’t that I didn’t love with her..” you slur out for the fifth time. “I just wasn’t in love with her- I-i just..I never was. I mean- she was nice and all- but she was also a major bitch.”

Your back is to the counter and hers is to the island opposite it. Your leg is gently pressed against hers. Her glass is stained red from her lipstick..you watch as she brings it to her lips and your own want nothing more than to meet hers…

This is torturous. This is actual torture and you can feel the way you are starting to get hot. Not because of the wine- no. It’s because of her. It’s always because of her-

“I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend..I didn’t know you were…” She nudges her head towards you. “Into girls..”

You sigh and close your eyes..“well..I am.” You shrug casually..“this wasn’t exactly how I wanted to tell you.” You open one eye to see her reaction.

She looks at you for a couple of seconds, taking in your slightly worried but hopeful look and she smiles softly at you..“I won’t tell anyone..if you don’t want me to or anything.” One of her hands goes to your knee and she squeezes is reassuringly, her fingertips tracing your lower thigh..

your other eye snaps open at the touch.

That sends a wave of heat right up that thigh and to your core..she has no idea the kind of power she has over you right now..you look from her eyes to her perfect lips- down to her chest..you let your eyes wander down her arm and to her hand on you. You look to her nails and your lips part slightly when you see purple..your favourite..

“I know.” You whisper back, not taking your eyes off of her hand your voice lower and much huskier than it was before…“I guess i kinda have to now, hm? Not fair to leave out the rest of the team.” You joke softly.

She tilts her head slightly at you and she uses your leg to pull herself closer to you, your thigh now against yours rather than her leg..you focus on how her hands flex with the movement- the way her hair bounces perfectly around her shoulders as she settles much closer to you.

“..you should. I’m not saying you have too but..you know they’d..support you.” She whispers, her face now close to yours..you can see every mark, freckle and crease and it’s only making you want her more..

“I know..” you whisper and lean closer to her very slightly, watching as she reaches for her drink and takes another sip…

“Have you always been..?” You nod and look to her lips then to her eyes. “Yeah..always. I didn’t exactly want it to be public information.” You look to her pants. “Tony’s always been the star of the show anyway. Wouldn’t wanna take that off of him.” You snicker and take another gulp- sending a quick glance to her thigh.

She laughs softly- her eyes following your glances and she takes a sip of her wine- you watch the way her throat moves as she swallows.

“I wish I could argue with that.” She smiles and glances to your lips..

“So do I..” you smile slightly, leaning back against the cold behind you. “I know I should probably get it out there and stuff it’s just..nerve-racking.” You shrug and lean your legs against hers. “Keeping secrets from the world and stuff.

“I get it.” She nods slowly..“Did you see it comin’?..” her eyebrows raise very slightly in question. “The..breakup, I mean..?” You let the question linger for a couple of seconds as you think.

“We weren’t..happy. But it wasn’t like- abusive or anything. We were just unhappy for a little while. We were together for six months.” You mutter- almost to yourself.

“It’s a good thing it ended- but it doesn’t hurt any less. Y’know?” You whisper and she nods slowly, taking in this new information..“I didn’t love her. And- she barely even loved me..” you shrug. “I don’t even think I’m crying because of her..I’m just stressed.”

“Stressed..?” She mutters.

“You try being an avenger, having Tony Stark as an older brother and undercover bisexual.” You snicker, raising an eyebrow at her as you tuck some hair behind your ear. Your cheeks flush at the sound of her laugh.

“I’m on almost every magazine in New York because of stark industries and the avengers- and I can’t go out on unofficial business without a hat and sunglasses unless I want cameras shoved in my face.” You tilt your head back gently onto the counter, looking at her with slightly lidded eyes.

“I take it she didn’t exactly help with anything?..” Nat smiles sadly.

“She didn’t just not-help..she made everything so much worse..she wasn’t the best stress reliever if you catch my drift.” You scoff and shift against the counter. “She didnt understand why I had to be away for awhile- on certain missions..used to slip at me if I was late for a date or a meet up or whatever.” You snort softly..

“Yeah that does sound stressful. Having someone worrying about you.” She says sarcastically- a small grin on her face. “A nightmare, honestly.”

“Ha-ha.” You smirk sarcastically back. “Fuck you.” You joke and press harder against her knee. “She didn’t just worry..she made me even more stressed out over it.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah- best six months ive ever gone through.” You mutter sarcastically.

“I mean..it wasn’t all bad. we’d go out to dinner come home and I’d cook her dinner and she’d make us popcorn and we’d watch a movie together..it would always end up with us in the bedroom though. To begin with anyway..”

You sigh and look over at her. “I guess I did see it coming..I just didn’t wanna admit it to myself.”

“..and what was the relationship and…the sex like near the end?” She asks quietly, looking over your face..you know it’s not just her asking- that the wine has made her extra curious…

“I assume bad? If she wasn’t much of a ‘stress reliever’..” she smirks as she drinks more of her wine..

It takes you off guard- but it’s enough to make your thighs slowly press closer together- desperately wanting that little bit of friction that’ll soothe what’s slowly turning into a mess between your legs.

“Well..it was..” You gaze at her for a moment or two. Before you snicker..“Non-existent.” You mumble honestly, brining the wine back up- the burn of it burning as you down the rest of what’s there. “She..wasn’t big on it- well..not on it. On me.”

Her hand slowly moves slowly further up your thigh, those purple fingertips inch closer to the hemline of your skirt..“she sounds like an idiot.”

“She was.” You mumble as you look to her hand once again..you bite the inside of your lip as you see it travel upwards..“I haven’t gotten laid in weeks either..” You grumble.

She swallow and looks you up and down..no wonder you’re so needy. “Damm shame.” You snicker. “It truly is..” you let your fingertip trace around the empty glasses rim slowly..

She smiles and playfully taps your thigh twice- your eyes shoot to her fingers. “She’s obviously stupid. I don’t know why anyone would ever purposely loose you..”

You look back to her eyes and your stomach does a 360 backflip at her words…“I like purple..it’s my favourite.” You whisper, glancing from her hands to her eyes a couple of times. You wonder how those fingers would feel inside you..thrusting and working you towards orgasm after orgasm- god it’s all you want in life.

She moves closer to you as she casually reaches for the almost empty bottle next to you. “I know.” She whispers, her nose inches from yours, retreating her hands from you as she does-

You just about stop yourself from whining in annoyance, missing her touch..god your pathetic for her. Like actually pathetic.

She slowly re-fills your glass and tops up her own, only spilling a touch of it on the bottom of your white blouse. “Oops.” She smiles and looks to your shirt then to your face.

“Don’t worry about it.” You grin and sit further up against the counter. “I have more..”

She brings your drink up towards you with her left hand, her right holding her own. “To your obviously brain-dead ex.” She raises an eyebrow and watches intensely as you take it off of her. “To my brain-dead ex.” You gently tap your glass against the rim of hers and you both drink at the same time.

You only bring it away when she does..and it finally hits you. The liquid courage you’ve needed for nearly four years now.

“You’re hot..hotter than her.” You swallow and look her over shamelessly..“your more my type.” You admit and move closer to her but not making a move..you watch her thighs as they press together just a touch..

“Oh yeah?” She looks at you for a couple of seconds, her eyes roaming all over you.

“Yeah..you have been for awhile..” you whisper- your voice full of nerdiness and years of frustration. It makes her smirk.

She leans in closer to you..“Well then, you should have told me.” She mutters.

“..how could I?” You scoff gently, pressing your thigh harder against hers. “I didn’t know what you were..into.” You shrug. “I still don’t.”

....“I’m into you, gorgeous.” She leans in even closer, you can feel her warm breathe mingle with yours and it alters your brain chemistry altogether..“really into you..” she admits softly..

her words smack against you like a truck and the realisation gives you a surge of confidence you’ve never really had when it comes to nat.

You lean in and press your lips to hers..if you thought your brain chemistry was altered before? It’s completely gone out the window now. You abandon your glass to tangle your fingers in her hair, pulling gently.

She moans as she kisses you back desperately, putting down the glass (ignoring how it spills all over the marble flooring) and moves closer to you. She tastes like good wine and victory..a combination you never through would be so addicting.

She pulls you closer to her by your hip and you’re eager to move onto her, straddling her thigh.

She slips her tongue into your mouth with ease- as if she’d done it a thousand times before. Her other hand goes to your ass and she gropes it harshly, pulling you down against her.

You moan and grind down onto her thigh- your breath hitches as you get that perfect friction against your clit. “Fuck, Nat-” you whisper against her lips and she’s quick to shut you up with another kiss, both of her hands move to your hips as she slowly begins to rock you against her.

“Wanted you for so long-” she breathes against your lips as you begin to move against her harder, your head dropping to her shoulder.

“Just like that, good girl.” She mutters against your ear as she kissed your jaw.

You gasp, your eyes closing as your thighs tighten around hers- “Nat.” You pant, one hand going to her breast and the other grabbing her hand still on your hip. “Sshhh, it’s okay, honey.” She closes her eyes as you grope and pull at her nipple through her thin shirt.

“Oh baby, that’s so hot.”

That makes your hips stutter against her- “fuck…fuck- m’ sorry m’ so close- oh-” your eyebrows furrow as you lean back, looking at her as you edge closer and closer-

“It’s okay..I’ve got you..you wanna cum for me?” She practically groans, watching you hump her like a fucking dog..it’s uncoordinated and messy and slow and oh-so-desperate..

You grunt as she lifts your skirt up enough so she can see your now darkened panties..

“Baby, you’re so wet for me…you gonna cum?” You nod- “come on, honey- cum on my thigh- good girl-” your jaw drops as you push yourself down one last time, your eyes closing as you finish right where she told you too..“fuck.”

She slowly brings her hand fully under your skirt, two fingers pressing against your now sensitive clit through your panties. She smirks when you flinch back- “Nat...” you whimper and she smiles- “such a good girl..oh- I can feel how soaked you are.” She purrs against your ear as she slowly runs them down the length of your core and presses gently against your dripping hole.

You pant as you grab onto her shoulder, leaning in and kissing her deeply as you slowly begin to calm down..

She leans back and suddenly turns the two of you over, your back now on the cold floor, her above you on her knees with your legs hitched up on her hips and her hands on your lower stomach. She leans down and kisses down your neck slowly and sloppily, her hands slowly undoing your shirt as she kisses lower and lower.

“Wanna clean that mess up.” She mumbles against your collarbone, finally getting to the last button and slowly opening up your shirt.

Your chest rises and falls and she lets out a small moan as she leans down to your left breast and kisses just above your bra and does the same to your right- “oh baby.” You breathe out, hand gently going into her hair, fingers threading into her red locks.

She puts her chin on your upper chest and looks up at you. “Honey, please let me- can I taste you?- need to taste you so much.” She whispers huskily, her eyes locked onto yours. You stare at her now ruined lips- smudged and messy with lipstick.

You nod quickly- “yes! fuck, please-” you almost cum again at just the sight of her pleading with you.

She leans back and lifts her shirt up and over her head before she continues to kiss down your body. Stopping just at the waist of your skirt.

You let your eyes explore her exposed body- looking from her breasts to her collarbone to her neck- “you’re so pretty.” You swallow and she shakes her head. “No, your pretty, baby.”

She puts her fingers into the hemline and gently begins to tug down your skirt. You lift your hips slightly when she gets to your ass and she pulls it fully off, letting out a happy sigh at the sight of your panties now fully on display for her.

“What about Cap?” You pant, watching as she slowly pulls your panties down on the right.

She kisses your right thigh. “What about him?..”

“What about banner?” You close your eyes and hold tighter onto her hair.

“What about him-?” She snickers, tugging down your panties on the left and pressing a kiss to the right hip too, worshipping your body.

“I thought you erm-” you gasp as she brings them even further down. “Liked them- or something..?” You bring your hands out of her hair as you move them to her arms..

She snickers as she leans back, throwing the piece of cotton to the side before moving so her hands are on the floor by your hips. “What, your the only one allowed to be a closeted avenger?”

You lean up so your nose gently grazes her, your breath mingling with hers once again..“you don’t know how long and how much I’ve wanted you..” you whisper.

“..I think I might have an idea..” she grins softly. “I’ve wanted you for..a very long while too.” She whispers against your lips as she leans back in and kisses you deeply-

You know it’s probably the alcohol talking..but you can’t help that tinge of hope in you.

You let out a happy breath through your nose as you kiss her back, your hands moving to cup her face. She leans back and kisses your cheek then your jaw before she moves back down your body- you watch as she moves to lie down on her stomach between your legs, narrowly missing the spilt wine.

“Why didn’t you te-?” You start- but she cuts you off with a small pinch to your thigh.

She kisses your inner thigh once- twice before you feel her gently blow on your core, making you twitch up against her. “Stop teasing-” you whine and she laughs softly. “Can’t help it. Your fun to mess with.” She grins as gently lean down and presses a kiss to your centre.

You gasp and close your eyes, your hands darting back to her hair in an instant.

She lets her tongue slowly trace up from your entrance to your now throbbing clit. She lets it rest against the button for a couple of moments before she suctions her lips around it and sucks gently, making you moan and attempted to grind up against her mouth.

Nat looks up at you through her eyelashes as she brings her right hand onto your thigh and gently scratches down slowly to your hole, pushing them through your lips and up- messing with the sticky mess on her fingers.

Your eyebrows furrow as you watch her purpled fingers tease and play with you..it makes your breathe hitch and your hips jerk.

She grins as she brings her fingers and mouth back, sticking her digits into her mouth with a happy moan. “Knew you’d taste good.” She leans back down and devours you, her tounge prodding and licking and sucking- practically drinking you.

You let out a small, broken moan and grab harshly onto her hair, letting yourself..feel her.

She moves to get onto the insides of your thighs and she pushes them further apart- shaking her head gently as she begins to thrust her tongue in and out of you, groaning against you.

You whimper at the feeling and one hand shoot out to the counter next to you, reaching up onto the edge of it- your fingers turning white with force..

“Natasha!” She suddenly brings one finger to your now soaked hole and pushes it in- before she adds a second, slowly beginning to thrust them.

“Oh!” You bring your other hand to her wrist, slowly easing her inside of you. “Good girl..that’s it, show me what you want.” She whispers, watching you clench and ease around her.

She leans back down and circles the tip of her tongue around your clit, thrusting slightly faster into you. She grins against you as she takes it back into your mouth, sucking and licking you with everything she has-

Your thighs jerk together, slamming against her head- making her moan and thrust her fingers faster into you- you could scream at the feeling of it- the way they just above meet that spongy spot inside of you that your own fingers can’t quite reach that makes you see stars.

“Oh shit-” you jolt and angle your hips down against hers hand, moaning relentlessly-

“What- close already?” She mumbles into your pussy, licking up the length of it from her fingers.

“Yes!” You shout, breathing unsteady and eyes lidded. you feel that familiar tugging feeling in your stomach as you inch closer and closer to that sweet release. “Nat- gods- don’t stop, I’m so fucking close- so so so close- fuck, love you so much!”

Tears brew in your eyes- making you blink and gasp, you feel so fucking good..“so good-” you writhe against her. “god i love you!”

You can’t believe it..you’re here- with Natasha Romanoff between your thighs, fucking ruining you..this is and has been your wet dream for years! She can’t blame you for being so close already-

She takes your clit gently between her teeth and pulls, giving you one last particularly rough thrust of her fingers as she does, “Shit-!” Your eyebrows furrow in pleasure as your mouth opens. you throw your head back against the floor and your hand tighten painfully around her wrist as you completely break for her.

She laps up your release quickly, her tongue working faster against you as she does.

You whine and lean back, attempting to get away from her face- “fuck- Nat-” you push away gently on her head, whimpering- tears falling down your cheeks in pleasure.

She leans back, breathing heavily and eyes with lust. “You okay?..” she looks to your teary eyes..You nod quickly- “Just felt so good.” You explain weakly, your weak body limp again let the floor.

She spreads your legs again and brings her body up yours, resting her chest against yours. “You’re so beautiful.” She whispers as she leans down, one hand slowly tracing the underside of your thigh and the other holding onto your hip.

You put your thighs against hers as you close your eyes, lean up and kiss her deeply, your hands going to gently cup the sides of her neck, pressing your finger against her pulse point- her hearts beating like crazy and it only drives you even more insane.

She leans back..“you have a couple of..” she snickers and looks you up and down.

You swallow and hum in confusion, slowly opening your eyes and taking the opportunity to look down- you gasp when you see lipstick stains all over you, on your breasts, stomach- thighs- hips-

“Nat!” You sit up and she laughs- “oops?” She leans back onto her knees and grins at you. You laugh with her- closing your eyes as you move to sit up and lean against the counter, still half naked.

…“I meant it.” She nods. “I have..wanted you. For a long, long time.” She whispers.

You look into your eyes, praying that there’s truth in them rather than pity..“so did I..I do..love you. Unfortunately.” You snicker softly, reaching for your panties and quickly putting them back on-

“You do?” She looks at you with that same hope in her eyes.

You nod and swallow. “I’ve loved you since you were Natalia.” You laugh softly and she leans in and kisses you, grabbing onto you as hard as she can. You hold onto her waist, pulling her closer to you as your tongue dances with hers.

You lean back- “promise me this isn’t just the wine talking?..” you breathe out. “Because if it is I can’t do this-” you scoff and she quickly shakes her head. “I promise you. It’s not just the wine talking..”

You leg out a breathy laugh. “You have no idea how much that means to me..” you mutter, a huge smile on your face.

“No, you have no idea how much this means to me.” She smiles. “I’ve dreamt about this moment.”

You nod- “fuck, me too.”

Nat moves closer and puts her forehead against yours. “We should shower and sober up..” she nudges her nose against yours.

You smile..“round two?” You joke and she laughs- “yeah, round two-” you stand up, grabbing her hand and your shirt at the same time as you stumble towards the elevator, praying nobody from the team sees the two of you like this.

She laughs harder and walks with you- making a mental note to remove the footage from the camera on the wall above the microwave when she eventually gets a chance. (When you let her go).

[fatecast]

guardian of the hummingbird ──── a natasha x fem!reader story

You are the Hummingbird, a healer known for your skill with herbs, and when Natasha, an assassin, kills a dying enemy who binds her with their last breath and drop of blood to protect you, her path is no longer her own.

warnings ➸ 6.6k words, eventual smut, fantasy!au (slight worldbuilding), top!natasha, bottom!reader, fingering/oral (r receiving), overstim hinted at, slow burn, "friends" to enemies to lovers, natahsa's a total liar at first, assassin natasha, healer/herbalist reader, side character death/injuries mentioned, alcohol consumption (n), hurt/comfort, happy ending, slight magic

You heal.

She kills.

So truth be told, neither of you expected to need each other.

In Kingsworth, that's where you reside, grew up. Across the seas in Levon is where she grew up, but no longer resides. Two completely different worlds, morals.

Your parents were healers, and their compassion whether hereditary or taught, was passed onto you. Seeing another in pain brought tears to your eyes. So alike your parents, you grew into their passion and eventually took over when they passed.

Meanwhile her parents were a painting. It's all she had of them. She grew up with the need to hide away every emotion, becoming steel. The hurt turned to anger when she became a teenager. Bad choices were made, and here she is on a path that all she sees is another in pain. Inflicted by her.

Where she sees the light die in others’ eyes, you are there to rekindle it.

The lamp beside you flickers dim, but enough to continue stitching the man's arm back together again. There's a few others in the small cabin, some asleep, some watching anxiously as you sew together their family member again. Their father, their son.

The air is thick with quiet tension, broken only by the soft scrape of needle against skin and the steady rhythm of your breath. Outside, the wind howls through the streets. The scent of herbs and dried flowers mingles with the faint copper tang of blood.

Each careful stitch is a promise, a vow to hold them together, to keep the pieces from falling apart. Their whispered prayers and barely suppressed sobs weave through the shadows

Only a few more, you whisper, your voice steady and calm. “Breathe slow. You’re so close.”

With careful hands, you finish the last few stitches before applying the soothing paste over the stitched wound—its cool touch settling like a balm. “This will ease the pain and help the flesh mend faster. Keep it wrapped tight, and your body will do the rest.”

On the other side of town, Natasha stands silently beside a bed, a man bleeding out beside her—her knife still buried deep in his chest. His grip tightens around her hand, trembling, and with his fading breath, he murmurs a final enchantment. The light in his eyes dims until nothing remains.

For a long moment, Natasha remains frozen, the weight of the moment sinking in. Then, sharp and sudden, realization strikes—she curses under her breath, stepping back as her gaze falls to the thin line of blood where his blade had nicked her skin.

Her eyes flash with frustration. She kicks a nearby object—hard—sending it clattering across the floor. Another curse escapes her lips, raw and bitter.

The wooden boat creaked softly as it sliced through the calm harbor waters, carrying a handful of passengers away from the island's fading lights. You stood near the bow, clutching a small satchel of herbs, eyes tracing the shoreline as the familiar town slipped into the mist behind you.

You turn around, every nerve on edge—only to find yourself face to face with a woman. She raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

“Oh my—sorry!” you stammer, stepping back.

“No need to apologize,” she says with a small, effortless smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You ease up a bit, surprised by how calm and inviting she seems.

“First time in this part of the world?” Natasha asks casually, a stray lock of hair dancing in the breeze.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Is it yours?”

“Oh, many times,” she answers smoothly. “By the way, I’m Elisabeth.” She extends her hand. “Looks like we’re headed the same way.”

You take her hand, sharing your name. A small smile tugs at your lips as a quiet conversation settles between you.

You really got to know her, Elisabeth. Natasha.

She's also from Kingsworth, lived in a village across the way from yours. Grew up a merchant before she decided she wanted to be a cartographer. You were somewhat familiar with her last name, Withers? You're sure your parents met them at some point, that the family was mentioned somewhere in your journal.

She was kind, friendly. Offering to show you around the new town you both were set towards, which you took because you've never been to this specific town before.

The town was decorated very nicely, to which she explained its due to the festival that's happening that night. The Moonborn market festival, celebrating the full moon and it's prosperity.

The day slipped by faster than you realized. You’d spent most of it tending to a handful of villagers—bandaging scrapes, checking fevers.

And all the while, she waited.

She never offered to help, never wandered far. Just stood or leaned quietly by the door of whatever home you entered, arms crossed, eyes distant. Sometimes she’d vanish briefly—like smoke on the wind—only to reappear again without sound or fanfare.

Now, night had fallen. The village has changed. Where once there were quiet courtyards and dusty streets, now light spills across stone from hundreds of lanterns strung between rooftops.

The Moonborn Market Festival has truly begun—music curling through the air like incense, laughter rising, scents of honeybread and fire-roasted fruit warming the breeze.

You pause at a vendor’s stand set just beneath a silver-draped awning. Trinkets and fabrics hang in tight rows—moon-etched pendants, soft scarves dyed in swirling indigo and gold. Your fingers trail lightly over a length of cloth that shimmers subtly under the lanternlight, like woven water.

“You like it?” the merchant asks—an older woman with bright, too-knowing eyes and silver rings stacked like armor to her knuckles. Her smile is sharp around the edges, just a little too eager. “Hand-dyed silk from across the Eastern sea. Rare stuff. You won’t find that shade again after tonight.”

You offer a polite smile, fingers brushing the shimmering fabric once more. “It’s beautiful, but I’m not sure I need—”

“Of course you need it,” she cuts in, voice thick with charm that’s quickly losing patience. “Look at that face, darling. That color was made for you.”

You shake your head gently. “Maybe another time.”

The woman’s smile vanishes like a snuffed flame. “You touched it.”

Your brows furrow.

“You touched it,” she repeats, louder now, eyes narrowing. “And then put your hand in your bag.”

A beat of confusion freezes in your chest. “Excuse me?”

“She took something!” the woman snaps, voice rising like a flare into the festival noise. “Tried to distract me with small talk and slipped something into her satchel!”

Around you, people begin to turn. Eyes flash in the lanternlight. A few step closer. You back away from the stand, heart pounding. “I didn’t take anything?!"

A man grabs your arm roughly. “If you didn’t, open the bag.”

Your voice tightens. “Don’t touch me.”

The merchant’s tone sharpens, her face lighting with cruel satisfaction. “Thief. No wonder she looked so interested—sticky fingers.”

The crowd stirs, voices rising like sparks off kindling. Fingers brush your arms, your bag, your shoulder—grabbing, accusing. You twist, chest tightening, heart hammering hard against your ribs. Panic rushes your throat. Then—A crack of motion.

Her hand snaps around the wrist of the man grabbing you. She twists it back with surgical force—he cries out, stumbling away, cradling his arm like it’s suddenly made of glass.

You catch the glint of steel too late—he slashes forward, blade kissing the back of Natasha’s upper arm. Blood opens like a ribbon along her sleeve. She faces him, driving the blade across his wrist in one clean, ruthless arc. His hand hits the ground with a slap of flesh and bone.

The man staggers back, staring at the stump where his hand had just been. Blood pours between his fingers, bright and shocking under the moonlight.

The crowd recoils, gasps turning to silence. Even the music seems to falter for a breath. Natasha stands over the man, breath steady, her injured arm bleeding freely down her side.

Your eyes are stuck on the scene, breath completely gone from your lungs. She gently guides you, walking the two of you away from the scene. Not a single word uttered.

You’ve checked into a room somewhere—you're not even sure where. Everything feels heavy, like your mind is still bleeding from what you witnessed in the square. Blood. Screaming. That hand on the ground.

Your stomach turns just thinking about it.

What pulls you out of the haze is the low, steady sound of metal being cleaned. You glance up.

Natasha sits across from you near the window, her legs stretched out, a cloth in one hand, her knife in the other. She’s wiping it down with the same calm she always carries—like she didn’t just sever a man’s hand for you.

But it’s not the blade that holds your gaze. It’s her arm. The back of her sleeve is torn and soaked in dark red.

You fumble with your satchel, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re hurt.”

She hums, not even looking up. “So it seems.”

You shift on the bed, more insistent now. “I can help.”

That finally earns you her eyes. She lifts her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her mouth. “Truly, don’t worry about me, little bird. I’ve been through worse.”

“But,” you say, scooting to the edge of the mattress, “if you leave it, it’ll get infected.”

Natasha watches you for a long, unreadable moment. Then.

“If I let you assist me,” she says dryly, “will you stop hovering like a worried mother?”

You nod, maybe a little too fast. That seems to satisfy her. She sighs through her nose and shifts upright, rolling her shoulder once before motioning toward the stool near her. “Alright then."

You grab what you need from your satchel—clean cloth, salve, needle and thread, just in case—and move to the stool beside her. A candle flickers between you on the nightstand, casting gold along her jaw, her collarbone, the tension in her muscles.

She shrugs off the coat slowly, and you peel back the ruined sleeve to expose the gash—clean, but deep. Still seeping blood.

You work in silence at first, the candlelight dancing with your movements.

Then, softly, “Thank you.”

Natasha glances at you from the corner of her eye.

“For stopping them, saving me. Even if… it wasn’t exactly gentle.”

She huffs a quiet laugh, wincing only slightly as you press the cloth to her wound. “Gentle rarely works. People like that… they don’t understand it.”

You meet her gaze, steady and sincere. “I don’t think that’s true. Gentleness can reach places violence never will. It takes time, patience—sometimes a soft touch is exactly what someone needs to heal.”

She snorts softly, "sure."

You shake your head gently, fingers stilling on her arm as you finish wrapping the bandage. “They need gentleness the most.”

The air between you thickens as your hands move over the last folds of cloth. When you finally look up, she’s already turned her gaze away, lost in thought—or maybe something else entirely.

The silence lingers, heavy and unspoken.

"I can take the floor," you offer, settling back, packing up your bag again.

She throws a laugh, "don't be silly. I'll sleep on the floor."

"But, Elisabeth," you look to her, "you saved me today, this is the least I can do. I just..."

"How about we both sleep in the bed? That way you stop your whining and I don't get a sore in my back when I wake up. Deal?"

A smile runs across your face as you nod.

You're heading back to the boat, having left Elisabeth Natasha back in the room. A note was left on the bedside table, a thank you for all she's done, but a fairwell at the same time.

With your hands tight on your bag you climb up into another ship to head over to another land. Ravens. The land with the castle, the royal family. There is where you expect hirearchy, chimpmunks, orange seashells.

The last thing you'd expect is her.

You'd wondered into a pub, bottom lip almost falling open in shock as you see her at a nearby table. Her knife is embedded in the scarred wood, feet stretched out, a lazy smirk playing on her lips like she owns the place.

You usher over to her, whisper yelling. "Why are you here too? Are you following me?!"

Natasha looks up slowly, her eyes narrowing with mild amusement. She flicks a finger toward the knife, then shrugs, as if to say, Maybe.

“Seems like I’m where I need to be,” she says, voice low and effortless. Her smile widens, drunken.

You pull up a chair, heart still racing. “You could have just said goodbye,” she whispers next, pouting dramatically. "Was sad when I woke up and the bed was empty."

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden softness in her tone. Her smile falters for a moment, then returns, warm and teasing.

“Didn’t expect you to care,” you say quietly.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “it’s not every day someone piques my interest enough to follow halfway across the world.”

You believe her—her words feel honest, the teasing tone disarming. Maybe she’s just as unpredictable as ever, but a little softer.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “So what now? You follow me like a lost dog?"

She shrugs. “Sure."

And that's exactly what happens.

And that's exactly what happens.

Over the next few months, Natasha becomes a constant presence by your side—sometimes silent, sometimes teasing, always watchful. The days blur into a rhythm of shared moments. You learn more about her past in Kingsworth, her parents. How she misses them and their time together.

You've really grown to tolerate her company, maybe even like it.

A piercing sound shatters the night air. Both you and Natasha snap your heads toward the village, where a towering column of smoke and flames rises into the sky. Your heart pounds fiercely, breath catching in your throat.

“No...” you whisper, voice trembling. “I have to—”

Her hand shoots out, gripping your arm firmly. “No.”

You jerk away, eyes blazing. “You can’t decide this for me!”

Her gaze hardens, steady and unyielding. “If you run in there, you’ll get yourself killed."

“So what?” you shout, voice cracking. “I can’t just stand here while everything burns?”

She steps closer, voice low but fierce. “Right now, rushing in does nothing but make things worse. We have to wait. Watch. Once the chaos fades, we can return—help those who survive, heal the wounded.”

Your chest heaves with frustration and helplessness, but her words sink in—the cold logic beneath the firestorm of emotion.

She loosens her grip but stays close, eyes never leaving the burning horizon. “Trust me. We’ll do what needs to be done. But not like this—not blindly running into danger.”

You swallow hard, torn between the urge to act and the stark reality in her calm, unwavering stare.

She reaches for you, "come on. We need to seek shelter."

The flames flicker in the distance, and for the first time, you realize that sometimes the hardest battles are the ones fought with patience.

You've walked through the forest for a while, silence suffocating between the both of you.

You follow her into the forest, your bag clutched tight, each step weighed down by everything you’ve left behind. The trees close in, tall and looming, and the night air is thick with smoke and silence. Not even the crickets sing.

You've walked for what feels like hours, the hush between you and Natasha stretching long and heavy. Neither of you speaks. Not because there’s nothing to say—but because too much hangs unsaid between you.

Leaves crunch beneath your boots. Branches shift above you. Somewhere far off, the faint echo of chaos still lingers in the sky.

You steal a glance at her. She walks a few steps ahead, eyes scanning the trees, jaw tight. She hasn’t looked at you since the fire. Not really.

“Do you think anyone made it out?” you ask finally, voice barely above a whisper.

She doesn’t answer right away. Then, “Some. Maybe.” Her tone is steady, but it lacks the certainty you’d hoped for.

Your throat tightens. "I—I knew some of their names.”

Natasha slows, but doesn’t turn. “And you’ll help them again. Just not tonight.”

There’s no warmth in the words—but no cold, either. Just fact.

You want to hate her for it. You want to scream. But instead, you keep walking.

Eventually, she nods toward a small, covered clearing, half-sheltered by an outcropping of stone. “We’ll rest here. Just for the night.”

You drop your bag, sitting with your back to the rock. Your hands shake as you reach for your canteen.

She watches you from the edge of the firelight, unreadable.

“I left them,” you whisper into the dark.

Natasha crouches down beside you, her voice low. “No. You survived them. So you can go back.”

You don’t answer. You just let the weight of her words settle beside you, heavier than anything you’ve carried yet.

“Why did that happen?” you ask next, your voice hoarse. “Why an attack all of a sudden?”

Natasha doesn’t answer right away. She’s crouched by the edge of the clearing, sharpening her blade in the low light, the steady scrape of metal on stone filling the silence. When she finally speaks, it’s quiet—measured.

“Because something’s changing.”

You frown. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

She glances up, meets your gaze. “It does if you’ve seen it before.”

You wait, but she doesn’t elaborate.

Your voice tightens. “People died, Elisabeth. They were just living their lives—”

“I know.”

The words come fast, sharper than the knife in her hands. She stands, slipping it back into its sheath.

“There’s always a reason for fire,” she says. “Whether it’s to burn something down… or to smoke something out.”

You stare at her, trying to piece together what she’s not saying. “You think someone was after someone specific?”

“I think…” She pauses, gaze distant now. “It wasn’t random. Villages like that don’t just burn.”

You hug your knees, the cold creeping in under your skin. “And you think it’ll happen again."

“I know it will.”

Her certainty sends a chill down your spine.

She moves to the edge of the rock outcrop, her back to you, watching the dark like something might crawl out of it. “A king died in Ravens a few months back,” she says finally. “Quiet death. Covered up. No procession. No mourning.”

You lift your head slowly. “Why?”

“They didn’t want anyone asking questions. Didn’t want panic.” A beat of silence. “But there are those who noticed. Those who still served him… who want blood for it.”

You stare at the outline of her shoulders, stiff in the faint moonlight. “Revenge?”

“They’re not just burning villages,” she murmurs. “They’re sending messages.”

Your breath hitches. “And who are they blaming?”

She doesn’t answer. Her head tilts slightly, like she’s listening to something far away. You can’t see her face, only the curve of her jaw, the stillness of her hands.

You don’t know it, but her thoughts are already somewhere else—back in the cold, candlelit room where a crown lay beside a lifeless body. Her blade had been clean by the time she slipped out, silent as smoke. No one ever saw her. No one but him.

She’d thought it finished. Tied off. Forgotten. That people would move along with their lives, but this is what frustrates her most about humanity. What she hates most about herself. Revenge.

It’s been a week since then. The two of you have been holed up in a quiet coastal town, a few days’ journey from Ravens—close enough to listen for whispers, but far enough that the smoke hasn’t touched the sky here. Not yet.

The townsfolk seem unbothered. They barter fish and bread, hang their laundry, chase their children through the winding streets like nothing is wrong. Maybe nothing is, not here. Not yet.

You haven’t said much. Most of your days are spent in quiet—wandering the market aimlessly, staring at things you don’t need. And at night, you walk down to the shore and sit by the sea, as if the waves might hold answers.

That’s where you are now, shoes off, toes buried in the cool sand, the sky above streaked with pink and bruised blue. The sea laps at the edge of the shore like it’s breathing—calm, even, the kind of peace that feels too far away to touch.

Behind you, you hear footsteps, slow and deliberate. Elisabeth Natasha. She sits beside you wordlessly, her presence like a shadow sliding in alongside your own.

You don’t look at her, eyes still on the water. “Do you ever feel like we’re just… waiting for the next horrible thing?”

There’s a pause before she answers, voice low. “Yep. All the time.”

You finally glance at her. She’s watching the horizon too, her features softer in the fading light. She’s not wearing the usual smirk, not hiding behind some flippant remark. Just quiet honesty.

“I used to think helping people would feel like more than this,” you admit. “Like it would mean more. But now everything I do feels too small.”

“It does mean something,” she says, turning toward you. “You helped people. That matters. Even if it doesn’t fix the world.”

You study her face, the rare sincerity there. “And you? Do you ever wish you’d done something else with your life?”

She lets out a breath, her eyes darkening. “Sometimes. But I made the choices I made. You don’t get to erase that.”

There’s something heavier beneath her voice, something close to regret—but not quite.

You tilt your head. “Would you change it?”

She’s quiet for a long time. Then, so softly you almost miss it, she says, “Maybe. If I’d met you sooner.”

Your heart stumbles.

You turn back to the sea, unsure what to do with the warmth suddenly curling in your chest.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Elisabeth,” you say, quieter than before.

She gives a huff of a laugh—dry, but not bitter. “You’re probably the only one who thinks that.”

You look at her. Her eyes meet yours, searching, guarded—but something cracks there. Something real.

The silence stretches, not uncomfortable. Just full.

Then, slowly, you both lean in.

The kiss is soft, uncertain, like neither of you is entirely sure you’re allowed to want it. Her hand brushes your cheek, careful, like she’s afraid you’ll pull away.

But you don’t.

For a moment, the war, the fire, the broken kingdoms fade. There’s only her lips against yours, the salt of the sea in the air, and the quiet hum of something neither of you can name just yet.

When you pull apart, your foreheads rest together, breath mingling.

“Careful,” she murmurs. “Keeping looking at me like that and I'll want to kiss you again."

You smile faintly. “you say that like it's so terrible."

A smile grazes her lips, a genuine one as she leans in again. A hand on your cheek.

The next morning, the two of you board a modest trading ship bound for the Isle of Thorne—a quiet place rumored to be untouched by the conflict brewing inland. The deck creaks underfoot, gulls screech overhead, and the salt-heavy breeze plays through your hair. You and Elisabeth lean over the side of the ship, watching the mainland shrink behind you, wrapped in fog and memory.

She’s quieter than usual, chewing on a piece of dried fruit, eyes distant, unreadable. Last night, she'd kissed you like you were something she might never have again. This morning, it’s like she’s trying not to look at you too long.

You don't push.

Instead, you walk across the deck, helping a young crewman who sliced his hand on a tangled rope. You clean and wrap it without much thought—he smiles, grateful, tells you you’ve got good hands. You return the smile distractedly, your mind already elsewhere.

And then it happens.

A voice—older, gravelly, uncertain—calls out behind you.

“...Natasha?”

The name doesn’t land right at first. It doesn’t belong to anyone here.

You turn instinctively. But it’s her that freezes.

Your gaze snaps to Elisabeth. She’s gone pale, the dried fruit slipping from her fingers to the deck. The sailor who called the name—an old man with a scar over his nose—squints at her harder.

“I’ll be damned,” he mutters. “Natasha! Thought you were—”

“I’m not,” she cuts in sharply, her voice low and cold.

She doesn’t look at you.

You step toward her. “Elisabeth…”

Her jaw clenches. The man backs off slowly, muttering something about keeping to himself.

“Elisabeth,” you repeat, firmer this time. “Who is Natasha?”

She finally meets your eyes—and for the first time, you don’t recognize the expression she wears. It isn’t teasing, or soft, or even distant.

It’s the look of someone who’s been cornered. Exposed.

“I didn’t want you to know me like that,” she says quietly. Everything else she says after that fades away. Truly it felt like a panic attack. World spinning, heart dropping. The air left you completely.

You laugh, mocking and sour. "Oh so what, you've just lied to me this whole time? Who are you, Natasha?"

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. You see it then—the flicker of panic behind her eyes, quickly buried beneath the usual cool detachment she wears like armor.

“I didn’t lie about everything,” she says finally, voice low, almost pleading. “Just the parts I didn’t know how to give you yet.”

“Oh,” you spit, the laugh sharp, bitter. “That’s comforting. Thanks.”

You pace a step back, fingers tightening at your sides. The ship rocks gently beneath your feet, but it might as well be the world shifting.

“So what, Elisabeth was just a convenient little costume?” you snap. “Was any of it real? The village, the festival, the kiss—?”

Her jaw tenses. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t what? Ask you to be honest?”

“No,” she says, firmer now. “Don’t pretend none of it mattered. You know it did.”

You shake your head, fury and confusion twisting together in your chest. “I knew Elisabeth. I trusted her. I let her sleep near me, touch me, kiss me—?!"

“I’m still that person,” she says, stepping forward. “Even if my name’s different. Even if my past is darker than you want it to be.”

You stare at her, your breath shaky. “So what is your past, then? Who is Natasha? Who are you really?"

She’s silent. The ocean groans around you, the sails straining in the wind.

“Oh, so you’re just going to tell me you’ve killed people?”

You say it with a bitter edge, half hoping she’ll deny it. But her silence pulls the ground out from under you—like falling off a cliff with nothing to hold onto.

You want to deny it, but looking back on everything. It hurts to see that everything lines up.

You want to scream. Or cry. Or ask her to turn around and jump ship so you never have to look at her again. But all you can do is stand there, heart in your throat, trying to reconcile the woman who kissed you with the stranger standing in her place.

“I don’t know who you are,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. "And I don't want anything to do with you ever fucking again."

She doesn’t try to stop you this time when you walk away.

You heal.

It’s who you are. not just a skill, but a calling that pulses through your veins like blood itself. In every herb you crush, every stitch you sew, there’s a piece of you poured out, a quiet promise to mend what’s broken. It’s what your parents taught you, what you’ve always known.

For about a week now, you’ve been tending to the sick in a small village tucked between the hills. Their coughs and fevers, their cracked skin and tired eyes — you meet them all with steady hands and a soft heart. You move from one bed to the next, offering relief, hope, a chance to breathe easier. But somewhere deep inside, that spark that once lit your touch feels dimmer, shadowed.

At night, when the village sleeps, you lie awake, your mind tangled in thoughts of Natasha.

You can’t stop thinking about it. The fact she's a killer. How different her path is from yours, yet somehow it’s intertwined with your own. You wonder if she feels the weight of it all or if it’s just a part of her, cold and distant.

You sigh, turning around, trying to sleep. As you look up, a scream etches its way out of your throat. You shoot back, gasping for air.

Someone stands over you, a knife in their hand poised now over your neck.

"Scream and I'll kill you," they whisper, voice devoid of any emotion.

The stranger’s gaze is cold, unyielding—no hint of doubt or mercy. You force yourself to stay calm.

“Who sent you?” you ask, searching for answers.

The silence stretches, heavy and thick. Finally, the stranger’s voice is low and deadly serious. “You're hers. And I’ve been sent to find you.”

You wake up with a sore back. Hands cramped behind you, tied. You're on something that's moving, heading somewhere. You'd know if you could see, but there's a cloth blocking your vision.

The rough fabric scratches against your skin as you blink, trying to clear the fog from your mind. The steady creak of wood and the rhythmic slap of water against hull tell you one thing for certain—you’re on a boat.

Your breath comes shallow, heart pounding as you test the bindings around your wrists. They bite into your skin but hold fast. Panic threatens to rise, but you push it down, forcing yourself to listen.

Voices murmur nearby, low and cautious. Footsteps approach—heavy, deliberate.

A shadow looms, then a voice, calm but cold: “Good gods, you’re finally awake."

You swallow hard, every nerve screaming for a way out, but all you can do is wait and think of a way out.

Your eyes squint against the fading light as you try to make sense of the woman standing before you. The ropes around your wrists have loosened, but your hands remain bound.

“Who are you?” you ask, voice steady but cautious.

She steps forward, her expression unreadable, a faint edge of something like amusement in her eyes. “I’m the one sent to find Natasha.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why bring me here? What do you want from me?”

Her lips curve into a cold smile. “Natasha killed the king of Ravens. I was tasked with finishing what was started.”

You feel the air leave your lungs. “And I’m just bait?”

She nods slowly. “She trusts you. That makes you the perfect way to draw her out.”

You swallow hard, the truth settling heavy. “What happens when she shows up?”

Her smile fades. “That all depends on who strikes first."

The cold slap stings your cheek, sharp and sudden. You grit your teeth but say nothing, meeting her eyes with steady defiance.

“Tell me the truth,” she demands, voice low and harsh.

You shake your head, struggling against the ropes but knowing it’s useless. “She didn’t. All she did was lie to me! I didn't even know her name."

Her eyes flash with disbelief. “You expect me to believe that?”

You swallow hard, heart pounding. “I only know what she’s shown me. That’s all I have.”

Before the woman can respond, the heavy door creaks open. Two figures step inside, each gripping one of Natasha’s arms. She’s limp between them, unconscious and bruised, her breathing shallow.

The woman’s eyes widen, but she says nothing. She shoves you hard, the sudden force catching you off guard. You stumble backward, hitting the ground with a harsh crack. Darkness quickly floods your vision as the world tilts and fades away beneath you.

The last thing you hear is the low murmur of voices and the creak of the door closing behind her.

Next time you open your eyes, you're face to face with her. Her expression concerned, a hand dabbing at your face with a wet cloth. You're laid on some matress, her body sitting on the bed, facing you.

You curl slightly away, the sting of the cloth against your skin sharper than you expected. Your throat tightens, words tangled up in the knot of confusion and pain.

Her eyes don’t waver, holding yours like she’s trying to unravel the walls you’ve built around yourself. She sighs, sitting back. Silence overtaking the both of you before she starts again.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this."

She looks away briefly, the weight of her past flickering across her eyes before she meets your gaze again.

“I grew up in Levon. My parents were never around. Anger took hold—I made choices I’m not proud of. And then I became an assassin. It's cringy, but I wanted community. They never looked down on me like everyone else did. It was pity or shame, and I was so fucking sick of it."

“I killed the king of Ravens," she pauses, breathing out, "it was a job—one I was paid to do like every other one. But that moment… it changed everything. As he died, he bound me—cut a mark into my hand, mixed our blood. He tied me to you, declaring I must protect you.”

She swallows, a strange mix of bitterness and gratitude in her eyes. “Why he chose you, I don’t know. But… I owe him thanks. For two reasons.”

She pauses, searching for the right words. “First, because that bond pulled me away from the life I was trapped in—no more contracts, no more killing for money. I’m tied to something… different now. Something I never expected.”

“And second… because it brought me to you."

You finally meet her gaze, your expression still guarded but quieter now—listening, and that’s enough.

She exhales softly, relief flickering across her features. “You don’t have to forgive me. I don’t expect you to want to understand, either. I’m sorry—for the past, for the lies, for everything I kept from you.”

Her voice lowers, earnest and raw. “But please… just let me heal you.”

There’s a vulnerability there you hadn’t seen before—a plea beyond words, beyond duty. And in that moment, something shifts between you. She gingerly reaches towards you again, wiping away at the died blood by your eyebrow.

The salt air drifts gently over the porch where she stands, silhouetted against the pale blue of the sea. You recognize this place—it’s the same home where you once tended to a fevered child, the memory faint.

You step quietly beside her, the silence stretching between you. After a moment, you break it. “What did those people want?"

She doesn’t turn, voice low and steady. “I don’t really know. I hoped they were the last. That whatever shadow was chasing us… is finally gone. I hope. Revenge flickers out eventually, people get tired. Especially for royalty such as himself. he was a pissy king."

The quiet returns, heavy but not uncomfortable.

You draw a slow breath. “I don’t like that you lied to me. And I don’t think I’ll ever like that you killed people—no matter the reason.”

Her shoulders tense, but you soften your tone, eyes tracing the horizon. “But I can see the change in you. It’s real. I know you’re not the same person you were.”

For the first time, the weight between you feels less like a barrier, and more like a fragile thread—something that might hold. She reaches for your hand, but you move back, just slightly.

"This doesn't mean I've forgiven you just yet," you murmur, looking back out at the sea. "Give it time... and we'll see."

A month later. You're sitting alongside the shore of Kingsmore. Laughing and teasing a kid who you've just bandaged a broken arm, doing your best to erase the that were in his eyes. He now smiles, eyes glimmering not from tears but from laughter. You chase him around, doing what you can to bring him joy.

You kick up sand as the boy darts past you, laughter ringing clear and light in the salty air. His broken arm, once swollen and angry, now wrapped tight with your careful bandages, seems almost forgotten. You chase him with a teasing grin, heart swelling with a fragile hope you haven’t felt in weeks.

Eventually, the boy darts off toward his family, and you wipe the sweat from your brow, standing and brushing the sand from your clothes. The path back to the house feels different now — softer somehow, as if this place is slowly mending alongside you.

When you reach the porch, Natasha is there, leaning against the doorframe, eyes fixed on the sea. She watches you with that unreadable expression she’s perfected, neither warmth nor cold — just presence.

You approach quietly, your footsteps softened by the worn wooden boards.

“Hey,” you say softly.

She shifts, turning to meet your gaze. “Hey.”

The air between you feels heavy, thick with unspoken words.

“Can we talk?” she asks finally, voice low but steady.

You nod, heart fluttering unexpectedly as you step inside together, ready to face whatever comes next. You both step inside your store, the door swinging shut behind you. She turns back towards you, words starting to escape her but you stand on your tip toes and cut her off with a kiss.

She eagerly responds, hands cupping your face. Your back bumps into the wall behind you, hands weaving in her hair. She kisses you desperate, wanting, loving.

She tugs at your shirt, puling your clothing off. Each article falling onto the floor as you both stumble into the bedroom. She kisses along your neck, fingers finding your hot core.

"Nat," you gasp, back arching as she rubs your clit with practiced ease. Against your neck she whispers her praises, her confessions.

"So pretty."

"So fucking soft."

"I love you. Oh gods, I love you."

"You're so beautiful."

She kisses down your body while her fingers work you open, feeling how you clench around her. Her lips wrap around your nipple, a smile on her face as she watches you keen. She moves her way down until shes hovering right over your clit.

The moment her tongue presses onto you, a choked moan escapes you. Hands gripping the sheets tight as she brings you to your high embarrassingly quick.

Her name on your tongue as you come down from your high. You realize half moan that you're way too loud, and you slap a hand over your mouth. Muffling yourself.

“Sorry,” you breathe out, flustered and a little breathless, laughter still clinging to the edges of your voice. “What… what were you going to talk to me about? I didn’t mean to cut you off, I just—”

She’s still laughing softly as she leans in, the corner of her mouth brushing your cheek in a kiss so gentle it stuns you still. Her finger rises, rests lightly against your lips.

“Shh,” she murmurs. “Relax. I was just going to say I love you. But this was way better.”

Your chest tightens. Everything slows — the air, the sea breeze, the thrum of your thoughts. You look at her, at the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, at the steadiness she’s grown into beside you.

And then you say it.

“I love you too.”

Her eyes widen for a second — just a flicker — and then something softer, something real and quiet, settles between you both like the hush of the tide.

notes 𓇕 hope you enjoyed this!! whoever you are! Love that you love stories, even if they're shitty. Because I fear this is shitty, but. I spent like 7 hours writing this!

[wolfbluebird]

Mockery and Mercy

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Under Natasha’s hands, you’re torn between humiliation and worship — ruined by her sharp tongue, soothed by her softer touch. She breaks you down, cleans you up, and leaves you knowing you’ll never belong to anyone else.

CW: dom/sub dynamics, degradation/humiliation kink, mommy kink (mild), orgasm control/denial, rough language, aftercare.

Men and Minors DNI

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Natasha had you cornered the second she decided to. That was how it always went with her — you could try to push back, try to hide behind excuses, but she read you too well. Tonight was no different. Her hands had been on you from the moment you stepped through the door, pulling you onto the bed, pressing her weight against you until your knees went weak. And then she found it — the evidence of your impatience, your desperation - damp fabric clinging where you needed her most.

Her laugh was low and cruel in your ear as she pinned you down with one hand splayed against your chest. "Aw, baby," she cooed, though her tone made the pet name feel like mockery. "Look at the mess you made." She tugged at your panties, dragging her fingers over the soaked patch with slow, taunting pressure. "My, my. What a desperate girl I have."

Heat rushed to your face, your eyes flicking anywhere but hers. You wanted to turn your hips away, to bury yourself in the sheets, but Natasha was relentless.

She caught your chin with two fingers and tilted it back until your eyes were locked on hers. The smile playing at her lips was sharp enough to cut.

"Look at your pretty pussy, baby. Do you see how gorgeous it is?" She shifted her body lower, spreading your thighs without asking, making you watch as she pressed her thumb against the damp fabric. Your gasp only made her smirk grow. "No, 1 told you to do something. Now look."

Her words hit you harder than her touch, each one threading humiliation into your veins like fire. You felt like you might come undone just from the way she said it, the control in her voice, the command.

Natasha dragged her nails lightly up your thigh, teasing you, never giving the friction you begged for.

"What if Mommy were to just... clean you up a bit?" she purred, almost gentle. Her hand traced the wetness staining the thin cotton, slow and deliberate.

"Yeah? Think you can hold it?"

Your hips jerked before you could stop them. You made a sound that barely passed for a whimper, and Natasha chuckled darkly, lowering her mouth to your jaw. Her lips brushed your skin, her words vibrating against you.

"Aw, someone sounds awfully close. But I don't remember saying you could cum, did I?" She let her teeth graze your skin, just hard enough to make you shiver. "I distinctly remember asking if you could hold it."

Every nerve in your body screamed for release, but you knew better than to disobey her. Natasha thrived on this — on your restraint, your obedience, on the way you writhed beneath her control.

Your hands clutched the sheets so tightly your knuckles ached, your whole body trembling. Natasha sat back just far enough to look you over, her red hair falling into her face as she tilted her head.

"God, you look so fucked out," she said, almost admiringly. Her smirk softened for only a breath before it curved back into something sharper. "What a fucking whore my baby is, hm?"

You whimpered at the word, at the cruelty in her voice that still dripped with affection. Natasha leaned in, brushing her lips against your ear. "I could ruin you right now," she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. "Make you beg until your voice breaks. And you'd let me, wouldn't you?"

You nodded, helpless, and Natasha chuckled again - the sound low, knowing, dangerous.

When she finally gave you what you craved, it was with the same deliberate cruelty she'd wielded from the start. She pressed against you through the soaked fabric, grinding slowly, dragging pleasure out of you inch by inch while never letting you forget who was in control. Every gasp, every twitch, every sob of frustration only seemed to please her more.

By the time she finally let you fall apart, she was right there, hand firm on your hip, voice low in your ear.

"There it is. That's my good girl. Making such a mess for me."

And afterwards, when you lay trembling in the sheets, too wrecked to move, Natasha's hand smoothed over your hair, her lips brushing your temple. The mockery in her voice softened into something else entirely, though the smirk never left her mouth. "Shh. I've got you. My desperate, beautiful girl. Look at the state of you..."

Her laugh was softer now, but you couldn't mistake the pride in it. Natasha always left you torn between humiliation and worship, and tonight was no exception.

When it was over, Natasha didn’t move away immediately. She stayed pressed against you, her breath steadying while yours shook and hitched. Her hand smoothed down your thigh, fingertips tracing idle circles over the skin that still quivered under her touch.

“Mm,” she hummed, lips brushing your hairline. “Look at you, baby. My poor little mess.” Her tone was softer now, the sharpness in it dulled, but she still made sure to press the word in deep. “You should see yourself right now. Gorgeous, wrecked, needy… mine.”

You whined weakly, turning your face into her chest, but Natasha only laughed under her breath, the sound vibrating against your temple. She shifted, tugging you into her lap with that soldier’s strength of hers, and reached for the blanket at the edge of the bed.

“Don’t hide,” she murmured, pulling the fabric around you both. “I told you to look, remember? You don’t get to fall apart and then just bury that pretty face away.” Still, her hand stroked through your hair, gentling you, coaxing you to calm. “Shh, I’m only teasing. You did so good for me.”

Her palm slid over your back, grounding you, steadying your breathing until the shakes quieted. She pressed a kiss to your temple, then another to the corner of your jaw. “My desperate girl,” she whispered, though this time there was pride threaded through it. “You take everything I give you and still beg for more. God, you drive me mad.”

She tipped your chin up, making you meet her eyes one more time. The smirk was still there, but softened around the edges. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll clean you up. Can’t have my baby lying here in such a state, can I?”

Natasha eased you back against the pillows, tucking the blanket tight around you like she was locking you safely in. She disappeared for only a moment, returning with a warm cloth. Her touch was careful as she wiped you down, as if every pass of her hand was a quiet apology for how far she’d pushed you.

When she was satisfied, she climbed back into bed and pulled you flush against her chest, wrapping herself around you like a shield. “There we go,” she murmured, pressing her mouth to the crown of your head. “All clean. All mine.”

And just as you started to drift, she let out a final little laugh, low and smug. “Still can’t believe what a mess you made, baby. You’ll never live that down.”

Masterlist

A/N: this is actually my second time uploading this, first time just wouldn’t upload the full thing and it was sooooo annoying 😤. Anyways, enjoy xx

[fatecast]

thinkin' bout me ──── farmhand!natasha x fem!reader

You both had something—unspoken, unnamed—but now you’re with someone else just for show, kissing her goodnight while Natasha loads her truck. Yet when you glance over mid-kiss, she sees right through you—you’re still not over her.

warnings ⚘. 900 words, sensual car sex, modern!au (wlw country), "exes" to one night stand, farmhand!natasha, farmer's daughter!reader, strap in v (r receiving), top!natasha, bottom!reader, tit play, sort of exhibition, reader is slightly drunk

Natasha sees it—

The way you kiss your distraction. Slow and loud, when you know she’s watching. Every press of your lips is a show, a performance.

She’s across the yard, sleeves rolled up, hands busy but her gaze locked on you like a flame that won’t die out. You try to fool her, to fool yourself, but the silence between you is louder than any lie you could speak.

Because you both had something—something unspoken, unnamed, but real enough to leave scars. And no matter how many times you kiss someone else in front of her, she knows you’re still thinking about her.

She bets you probably tell yourself you're just a burnt-out flame. That she’s nothing but a long-gone thing, someone who’s not been on your mind.

Maybe you tell yourself the nights you spent together don’t mean a thing anymore. That her name’s just a whisper you’re trying hard to forget. But she knows better. She knows you’re holding onto memories you won’t admit. Clinging to a story that’s not quite finished, no matter how much you try to pretend it is.

She's still the one you think about.

Even now, under the string lights of the summer festival, with beer warming your hands and the music pounding through your chest, you can’t stop yourself from swaying. You twist and twirl your hips to the rhythm. Maybe it’s the whiskey loosening your tongue, or the crowd blurring around you, but deep down, you know exactly who you’re performing for.

She’s across the yard, watching. Every step you take, every flick of your hair, every smile slipping through the beat is a silent message just for her. You don’t say it out loud, but your body doesn’t lie. The way your eyes find her in the crowd before anyone else.

The music fades behind you as you slip off the dance floor, the laughter and chatter blurring into a distant hum. The woman you came with disappears somewhere in the crowd—no longer a distraction, no longer enough. You move like a magnet pulled toward something inevitable, your eyes locked on hers.

No words pass between you. No need. The space between you shrinks until it feels like the only thing that matters. And then—without warning—she’s there, a finger hooked in the waistband of your jeans, pulling you closer like a reckless promise.

The kiss is sudden, fierce—like a secret finally breaking free. It tastes like the nights you never named and the things you never said. For a moment, everything else falls away, and it’s just you two, tangled up in the silence and the spark of something that’s still burning.

It's a blur how you end up in the front seat of her car. Hips grinding against one another, hot gasps against each other's lips. Hands roaming each other with familiarity. Your fingers clutched onto her smoky jacket, gripping it tighter as she kisses you breathless.

She's tearing your clothes off, hands full of biblical greed as she touches your skin, sliding her hands down to grab your ass shameless. A moan escapes you, low, a whisper against her lips.

As her lips get busy sliding down your neck, her hands work their way up to fondle your breasts. She slides them over, just holding them there as she leaves open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone.

A hand tugs your hip, jerking you to grind down on her flexed thigh. Whines escape you, head falling back. Each sound filling the heat in the small, cramped space. Fogging her car windows.

She tugs her own pants down with one hand, using what she can to desperately get a taste of you again. When it's freed, the toy she settled around her hips before she came, she slides your underwear to the side. The tip pressing against your entrance.

"Nat," you whine, hands clutching her hair. Hips rolling in desperation.

She doesn't wait, already sliding each in through easily with how wet you are. A mocking laugh wants to fall from her lips because of it, but she holds back, knowing if it slipped you'd slap her.

The choked cry that escapes you as she starts to set a pace is downright sinful. She could listen to it forever. Her hands tug at your thighs, bringing you down. Rolling you forward so she hits that spot inside you each time.

Sweat beads at her forehead, slicks her hair that falls in front of her face. Your skin glistens all the same because it's so ungodly hot, but neither of you truly care enough.

The minute her thumb rubs along your clit, you're so close. A strained sob escapes you as you fall down from your high. Head falling under her chin as you pant, trying to catch your breath.

For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet thud of her heart. Then she laughs—low, smug, and far too pleased with herself. You feel her shift beneath you, her body jostling yours just enough to make a point.

“You breathe like that with her too, or just me?”

Your jaw tightens as you slap her shoulder, not bothering to lift your head. “Quit it."

But she just laughs—low and mean and satisfied. Like she already knows the answer.

notes ──── thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed :)